Baby, Come and See About Me
by paramorebrighter
Summary: AH/AU. Esme has always been a lost soul, and now she's pregnant with her second child when a mysterious stranger moves in next door. For my Fandom Gives Back o/s for MsKathy. Now continued.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I am not Stephenie Meyer or Bob Dylan. Bob Dylan wrote the song '_Baby Please Stop Cryin' _in 1978, of which, I got the title from the lyrics.

A/N- this is for Ms. Kathy's Fandom Gives Back author auction request. Yes, I finally got around to it. The muse just wasn't talking to me until now. I just needed Sweet Little Bullet to give me some inspiration and to beta for me.

* * *

I was a doormat all my life.

If it wasn't my father's hand reaching out to slap me, it was my mother's. I went away to college simply to escape.

I was the homebody girl in the dorms. I never had a boyfriend until Charles Evenson, an RA, would say hello to me as I passed the front desk.

The girls on my floor said he thought I was cute. I blushed and said that it wasn't possible.

He asked me out for weeks, pestering me. Finally, I caved in.

"Esme," he said. "This is going to be the best date of your life."

We went to the carnival at the mall parking lot. We ate cotton candy and he insisted on taking me on rides that I didn't particularly want to go on, but he talked me into it. After the Tilt-A-Whirl, I vomited into a garbage can and he laughed, but got a coke for me. We went back to his truck and I was still woozy and couldn't stand to open my eyes as he drove back to the dorm. He carried me up to my room and promised me the next date would be better.

I thought better of it, but ended up agreeing when he called me the next morning to check on me. He took me out to a nice, stationary movie this time, with my feet on the floor.

When he took me home to my dorm room that night, he kissed me. I was almost twenty, and it was the first kiss of my life. "I knew it," he muttered. I didn't ask what he knew.

A few dates later, we were in his truck, kissing. "I knew you were the one," he said. "By the second date. I knew I was already in love with you." He groped my crotch through my jeans, but I gasped and pushed him away.

"No!" I cried.

"Why? What's wrong? I love you!"

I explained how I had been raised with the Catholic belief of no sex before marriage. He laughed. "Oh come on, that's for prudes and homos! You're not either, are you?"

"No, but I just can't!" I explained.

"When I said you're the one, I meant I'm ready to marry you," he said, nevermind the fact that I was only nineteen. Warning bells should have been going off in my head, but I didn't have any experience or self-respect. It all seemed so very romantic to me.

With a few more months of professions of love and insisting that I was the girl he'd marry, I gave in and had sex with him. Being Catholic, I took it on my back, we didn't use birth control, and naturally, I ended up pregnant a few months later.

In emotional turmoil, I turned to my priest. He insisted that Charles and I get married right away.

Charles and I did get married, not that he wanted to get married so quickly. He resented me for it. It meant that he had to give up his RA job, losing his free ride to school. He took on student loans, a job and we moved into family housing. It wasn't long until he slapped me for talking back to him one night after work. It escalated and got worse and worse until I lost the baby.

I berated myself for being such a terrible wife. Charles went into a deep depression and couldn't stop apologizing to me for it. I went back to my priest to confess to him.

"You chose your lot in life, child," he said. "You're married to Charles. Make the best of it." Never did he tell me that Charles had broken our marriage vows when he hit me. Never did he tell me that I was to get away from him. He gave me absolution, a pennance and told me to go and sin no more.

Charles did graduate and got a job in the private sector and we found ourselves pregnant again. Charles insisted that we buy a house and that I not work, but stay home with the baby. The most we could afford was a townhouse in Snohomish. The days were long and lonely while I was pregnant. Charles dismissed all my friends around the neighborhood until I was alone.

The night I gave birth to Emmett, I had to have an emergency C-section. He was an enormous baby, I don't think I would have enjoyed having my lady parts stretched out like that had I given birth naturally. He was ten pounds, two ounces. I was hardly able to carry him in the first three months.

Everything was Charles' way, though. And I didn't know anything, so I believed everything Charles told me. He told me breast feeding could keep me from getting pregnant. So, I breast fed. And, four months after I had healed enough to have sex again, I discovered that I was pregnant for the third time.

"It's alright. I always wanted a big family," Charles said.

Pregnancy hormones made me a mess. Maybe I was going through postpartum depression, too, but it wasn't long before we started clashing again. While I was in my fourth month, Charles and I were arguing so hard, he slapped me and I was knocked down the stairs. I only fell down to the 1st landing, but it was enough of a throwback to my first pregnancy. I didn't cry in the ER when Charles took me to make sure I was okay. When the doctor asked me what happened, it just came out of my mouth.

"He shoved me."

"I'd never hurt my wife!" he cried. I couldn't take my eyes off the biohazard needle box.

"It hurts when you hit me," I said, no emotion in my voice. I knew what was going to happen.

Security was called and he was arrested and the police took a statement from me. I called a lawyer the next morning and got a restraining order.

I didn't go out of the house until I needed groceries and then, my card was rejected for not having enough money. I had to apply for food stamps. And then for welfare because no one would hire a pregnant woman.

I took Emmett out in his stroller to enjoy the air and to reaquaint myself with my friends Charles hadn't allowed me to be around.

One afternoon as I was wheeling Emmett home I saw the real estate agent who was trying to sell the town home next to ours with a couple. The woman was pregnant. They were a young couple, too.

I didn't think much of it until I saw the real estate agent put a SOLD sign out front.

Going through a divorce while pregnant is doubly hard, but it was also good for sympathy. I got more alimony than I expected and I kept the house. He got supervised visits with Emmett and our unborn child once a week, which he never kept after the first three.

Being able to make up my mind about things was a foreign concept to me. The first thing I did was repaint the nursery. I liked painting so much, I decided to keep on painting the rest of my house to expel the vomitirious blank beige walls that Charles had made me live with for so long. I took pictures of Emmett when he got into the paint and laughed when it got into his little black curls, which I had to cut out.

While I finished the last room in the house, I heard a car fire up, the engine revved violently. I heard a loud crash. I ran outside to make sure no one had been hurt and I saw my new neighbor's SUV slammed into the garage door. The husband was standing outside, face in hand, and she was standing outside the car, sobbing loudly, rubbing her belly.

"...Why can't you understand, I'm trying so hard!" she was screaming.

"Liz, please, come in the house," he said, dejectedly.

The entire neighborhood was watching by now. "No!" she screamed. "I'll live on the streets if I have to!" He went over to her, but she flung his arm away. "It wouldn't matter to you if I were to leave-"

"Yes, it would. Just come in the house to deal with this," he said. "Liz, please."

He was begging her to come inside after she had wrecked the car. "You don't care!" she sobbed. She smacked him across the face and I jumped a mile. "You don't care, Carlisle! You're never home!"

I ran inside and called the police.

The police did arrive, but so did an ambulance. I watched through the front bedroom window as Liz was escorted into the ambulance by her husband. He got in with her. Half the neighborhood was standing on their front porches, watching. I watched as her husband got out and I saw it. He had been beaten up so badly by his wife that his face was bloody.

I had never seen an abusive relationship where the man was the victim instead of the woman. I was sickly fascinated.

The next day, repairmen came in and replaced the mangled garage door. After a week, I saw the husband, Carlisle, come home, dressed in scrubs. He was alone. Pizza delivery men came to the door and then occasionally Chinese and then Thai.

For several more days, he was alone when he left and came back. I wanted to do something nice for him, but I didn't know what without feeling like I was being nosy. Finally, I made a plate of dinner and Emmett and I left it on his front porch shortly after he arrived home. I ran back to my house, hoping he wouldn't see us through his front window.

I continued for a few more days until there was a knock on my door one night after I put Emmett down. Since I had walked with Heather down the street that day, I thought it was her. I opened the door and saw my neighbor with the plates in hand. He was much more attractive now, without blood on his face and was still wearing his scrubs.

"Hi," he said. "I wanted to thank you for the food and return these."

"You're welcome," I said, feeling a blush creeping into my face. I rubbed my pregnant belly. "How did you know it was me?"

"I saw you and your son leave this a few nights ago," he said. I knew he was struggling for conversation. "You're a good cook. Uh, how far along are you?" he asked.

"I'm not pregnant," I said.

He looked horrified. "I-"

"I'm just kidding. Eight months. My name is Esme Platt. Would you like to come in for a drink?"

"Would your husband mind?"

"I'm divorced. But, come in anyway. I didn't catch your name?"

"Carlisle Cullen. It's nice to meet you."

He came inside and I offered him a drink. "I don't do well with groceries or cooking," he admitted. "I was ready to starve instead of eat take-out any more. Or cafeteria food. Thank you."

"No problem," I said. "I can make some decaff coffee, I've got water, Sprite, orange juice, I can make some tea-" I spotted something I hadn't seen in a while. I had turned twenty-one while breast-feeding and Charles had restricted my drinking. I had yet to have a legal drink. Yet, I had a bottle of wine in the fridge that had been unopened up until now. "I've got wine."

"Wine would be nice," he said.

I looked at the glasses in my cabinet. I did not have any wine glasses to speak of. I picked up one of the small tumblers. I didn't know how to open a bottle of wine, either.

I fumbled with the wine opener.

"Do you know how that works?" Carlisle asked.

"No, not really," I admitted.

"May I?"

I handed the wine and the opener to him. He showed me how to uncork a bottle of wine.

"So," he said. "Are you having a boy or a girl?"

I had never thought about finding out the sex of the baby ahead of time. "Um, I don't know," I said, instinctively running my hand over my bloated baby bump. Charles hadn't let me find out. But now... This was my body, this was my child, I was no longer Charles' prisoner. "Do you know what you're having?"

"A boy," he said.

"How's your wife?"

"She served me," he said.

_Served me_... "You're getting divorced?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm hoping to get custody of the baby."

"She's not well is she?"

"No, she's not." I was surprised he was telling me this so quickly. We hardly knew each other. "Her family thinks it's best for her to get divorced and to give the child up to me."

I nodded and noticed his shoulders relaxing. He had been carrying this information for so long. "We all have our secrets," I said.

"Thank you, Esme," he said.

The next day, Emmett and I left dinner on the front porch for Carlisle Cullen. I went home and gave little Emmett a bath and put him to bed after giving him a bottle. After he was in bed, the doorbell rang and Carlisle was there with a washed plate.

"Thank you, Esme," he said. "You're too kind. I'm going to invite you and Emmett over to dinner sometime. Maybe day after tomorrow?"

"Thanks," I said. "It would be a nice break from the monotony."

He handed me the plate. "I'll see you then."

I didn't see his car for a few more days. But on the day he said he wanted to make dinner for Emmett and I, he arrived home.

He knocked on the door at six. "I've made the only meal I know how to make," he said.

"I'm up for anything," I said, picking up Emmett's diaper bag. If he served me ramen noodles and bluebox mac and cheese, I'd be fine with it.

At his house, everything was still in boxes. He had set up a high chair for Emmett that would, inevitably be used for his own baby when the time came.

"What would you like to drink?" he asked. "I've got some wine, some tea, bottled water, cranberry juice?"

"Um, tea?"

He disappeared into the kitchen. I laid out a blanket and set Emmett down, getting out a few toys. The set-up of Carlisle's house was different than my own. It seemed a lot smaller than my own.

"So, you were gone for a few days," I said. "Where were you?"

"Residency training."

"Residency? As in physician?"

"Surgical, yes."

"Down at the Baptist hospital?"

"The University Hospital, yes."

He came in with my tea. "I'm not really sure of how to raise a child," he said. "You seem to be doing alright here."

"Well, experience is the best teacher. And your wife... um, ex-wife-"

"Ex-wife, yes... I'm suing her for full custody when the baby's born."

If I hadn't seen him with a bloodied face and that incident when she wrecked the car into the garage door, I might have thought him selfish and bitter. But I knew that it was the best option. Anybody who'd leave a baby with a woman that hyped up during a pregnancy was a terrible parent. "Well... just call me if you have any questions... By the way, what are you going to do about work?"

"I can get some time off for a month or so, but after that, I'm going to have hire a nanny," he said. "When are you due?"

"July 14th. If all goes well. I decided to have an EVAP, even though my doctors tried to get me to have another C-section. Hopefully, this one won't be as big as Emmett."

"How big was Emmett?"

"Ten pounds two ounces."

"Jesus Christ! No wonder you had a C-Section with him!" he cried. "I think they've delivered heavier babies in L and D. Where are you having it?"

"At Baptist," I said.

"Not St. Thomas?"

I shook my head.

I demonstrated proper feeding techniques for a baby with baby food, since Emmett was able to sit up. "You'll probably have your baby on formula until he's able to start on baby food. I know a lot of pediatricians think this is crap, but I kept all dairy and peanut products out of the house. Emmett's not getting any gluten until he's over twenty-four months, either, that's my plan. But, I don't know what they're going to feed him in day care."

"You're going to work?"

I nodded. "I need to set a good example for Emmett. And baby number two."

"Did you ever decide to find out what sex the baby is?"

I shrugged. "No. But, I think I want to, now. When is your baby due?"

"Two weeks. I already know it's a boy. And while it's somewhat comforting to know, I'm still scared out of my mind at being a parent."

"You'll get the hang of it," I promised.

After a microwave frozen dinner, I gave Emmett a bottle, he fell asleep. "Well, I think I needed a night out. Thank you."

"Good night," he said, walking me home.

I laid Emmett down and went to bed myself.

For the next few weeks I took food by Carlisle's for dinner and he'd invite us over in turn the next night.

When I asked, he revealed that his wife, who seemed so normal when they met and married, but then, a darker side of her came out. She had bouts of depression. Then, she was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder after they were married when she started throwing things at him, breaking his hand fourth year of medical school. He hardly passed with his hand being in a cast. She got pregnant by manipulating her medications. And once she was pregnant, she couldn't take her meds anymore, making her more unstable. He did everything he could to help her, did everything to please her (like buying her a house) but nothing made her happy. Her family said that her problems were Carlisle's fault. She had beaten him up before, but he hadn't had the heart to lift his hand back to her. It was horrific and embarrassing to him- a woman beating him up. He took her to the hospital, and then, she called her parents, who arranged a lawyer for her, and she got a divorce lawyer. He knew the divorce would be difficult without humiliating her.

When I went to the ultrasound, Carlisle came running over on his lunch break to see with me. "There," she technician said. "A female."

"You're having a girl," Carlisle said.

"She's pretty small," the doctor said. She checked the heartbeat. "Everything sounds good so far. Maybe she'll just be a little petite thing."

"Oh, her brother was huge. Ten pounds at birth. He's a year now, and almost twenty-four pounds," I said.

"Well, this could be a huge argument for sexual dimorphism. Or just genetics. Did you have some tiny people in your family?" the doctor asked.

"I have two aunts who were really tiny," I said. "I didn't inherit it."

"Maybe it was recessive genes," she said. "She looks just fine, just really tiny. She'll be a gymnast or something."

I nodded.

After the appointment, I thanked Carlisle for coming with me. "I'm so glad I got to share this moment with someone," I said as he helped me into my car. "I like knowing."

"Me too. Promise you'll help me when Edward is born?"

"You named him already?" I asked.

"Yes. He's being named after my father."

"I guess I need to come up with a good name for my daughter, now."

"Discuss it over dinner?"

"Of course."

That night, I never saw Carlisle's car come into the driveway after his 24-hour shift was over.

I called his hospital and they told me that his ex-wife was going into labor and he had gone to be with her.

A few days later, Carlisle came home. I came out to greet him and he showed me a tiny baby boy sleeping in a carseat. "He's beautiful, isn't he?" he asked. I could see the worry and fear all over his face.

"Just calm down. Babies cry. Just remember, he wants a bottle, he needs to burp, check the diaper, he's cold, or he's sick," I said. "The rest of the time, it's just because he's bored or wants your attention." I had repeated this mantra several times for him in the past two weeks whenever he freaked out about handling his baby. "That was Emmett. There was only three times that it wasn't that, so far."

"Like what?"

"When he started teething," I said. "But that's a ways off. Don't worry about that just yet."

I helped him get Edward inside and situated in his new crib I had assisted him with setting up. Of all the rooms with boxes in them in his house, the one that was unpacked was the nursery. He had painted it green after seeing my cobalt blue nursery for Emmett and my new baby.

"Get some rest," I advised him. "He'll want to eat every three hours or so."

"I'm a master at sleep deprivation," he said, standing up. I almost laughed aloud.

He called me about an hour and a half later while I was picking up Emmett's toys. Edward had had the bottle, was burped, his diaper was dry, was in a long-sleeve onesie with long pants and feet, but was still crying. "Try burping him again," I said.

"I already did!"

"Try once more," I said. "You might not have gotten all the gas."

He kept me on the phone while he tried to burp Edward again and the baby spit up on him. "That was nice," he muttered. "Ugh... it stinks."

"Is he crying?" I asked.

"Not anymore."

"See?"

I had the feeling Carlisle thought that because he was a doctor he'd know these kinds of things, but only parenthood could prepare him.

Our lives continued like this until the night I had put Emmett down when I suddenly got a sharp cramp down my middle and stomach. I held my breath and told myself to calm down. I had had contractions before, mid-pregnancy, Braxton-Hicks contractions that scared me to death. I wasn't sure if this was it. My gynecologist told me to count them. In my case, if there were 4 or more contractions in an hour, I needed to go to the hospital.

I sat down on the couch and tried to plan out the last of my food list for the grocery store. I needed to get some baby food for Emmett. I had been losing weight lately because, to be honest, I didn't have much of an appetite, I couldn't keep much food down and I was almost out of food stamp money. The way the state did it was they gave me a pre-loaded debit card and reloaded it every month. There was one-hundred dollars per household occupant, but they didn't give me any extra because I was pregnant.

Carlisle had been calling me a lot lately because Edward wouldn't take his bottle. He was worried that Edward had a digestion issue. He was going to bring it up with his pediatrician at his two week check-up. At first I had brushed it off, but then I witnessed him trying to give Edward a bottle after the five point check list and Edward literally pushing it away, screaming. I took Edward and tried to give him the bottle, and he bawled, repeating his actions. We took his temperature, checked for bug bites and rashes or anything else that could be causing this. We tried to get Edward to burp, and he spit up something that didn't smell like formula but foul. We bathed him and dressed him in a onesie, and he still screamed and cried. He wasn't running a fever. Edward's pediatrician said it wasn't a big deal. He was just adjusting to his new environment and couldn't sense his mother.

As I sorted through my motherhood books and website to see if I could find anything. I personally didn't think that pediatricians were always right. How could they know your baby better than you?

I suddenly felt another contraction. I checked the clock, and Emmett had only been down for seven minutes.

This was not good.

I just needed to stay calm. The more upset I got, the worse the contractions were going to be and the more frequent they'd become.

I went to the bedroom to lay down for a few minutes.

This baby wasn't coming for another few weeks. I was certain. I wasn't going to let it.

Emmett started crying, I could hear him on the baby monitor. I got up and found Emmett in the crib, covered in poop.

He had recently started reaching into the back of his diaper and smearing it all over himself. I groaned, irritated. I was suddenly struck with a contraction and almost dropped him, but remember to clutch him to me. I stripped off his pajamas and put him in the bathtub, taking off my own soiled clothes. "Okay, Emmers," I said. "I'll be ready in just a moment."

I ran the tub faucet and Emmett's tears subsided when the water warmed up. Despite the contractions. I managed to lean over the tub and give him a bath. When it came time to pull the plug and take him out, I felt the contraction again and I couldn't even pick him up. And then, the phone rang. "Just a moment, Em," I said. "Sit tight, Mommy's coming!"

Emmett looked at me.

I tried to pick him up, but the contraction left me so weak. The phone rang, again in the other room.

"Shit," I muttered.

I was too weak to get my own child out of a bathtub.

"I'm sorry," I apologized to the little face with chubby cheeks and giant blue eyes.

"Esme!?" I heard my front door opening. I had given Carlisle and extra key to hold for my house. He had come in. I was sitting on the bathroom floor in my underwear, pregnant and most likely in labor. But, I couldn't move my child or even stand up.

"Up here," I said, although my voice was now much weaker than I imagined.

He came up the stairs and busted in the bathroom. "Esme?"

"I think I'm in labor," I hissed, clutching my stomach as another contraction came on.

"And you decided to give your son a bath?"

"He smeared shit everywhere," I explained.

He helped me up, finally. "I'll get Emmett. Who was going to take you to the hospital?"

"Heather. Is she home?"

"I'll check. Let's get you dressed," he picked up a bathrobe. "Has your water broken?"

"No," I said, accepting the robe.

He called Heather from the number off my refrigerator.

"Not home."

"Try her cell."

He called her cell. He finally got her. I waited as patiently as I could while he talked to her. "She's got her nephew over for the night."

I groaned.

"I'll take you the hospital."

"What about Emmett and Edward?"

"Heather's going to have to help out watching them," he said. "We don't have any other options. I'll be back in a few minutes." He picked up Emmett's diaper bag and went off outside. I waited for Carlisle to come back while I had two contractions a few minutes apart.

He came back after about fifteen minutes.

"Where's your bag?" he asked.

"It's in the trunk of my car."

He retrieved it and we went into town to the hospital while I called my gynecologist.

Once I was taken to the labor room, I tried to relax and hope that Emmett and Edward were alright with Heather. Of course they were.

My contractions started to feel like the worst menstrual cramps I had ever had. They gave me an epidural and that assisted with the pain. I wished I had gone with the C-section this time in the heat of the moment. But I knew it was better overall for the baby to have an EVAP delivery.

Carlisle came back to my room. "Here," he said giving me a cup of ice chips.

"Thank you," I said. "Has Heather gotten her sister to pick her nephew up?"

"No," he said. "Look, I just did this a few weeks ago. Women do this all over the world every day, too. We've got great medical help here in the United States, we're going to be just fine."

It felt like he was trying to calm himself. I was the one who had done this before.

The nurse checked me several times through the night, checked the monitor. I had discovered with my first pregnancy that the moment I went into labor with Emmett, my body was no longer my own. They checked my cervix. When they wanted to turn me over, I couldn't do it on my own, lest I have a horrible contraction. Carlisle assisted with turning me. They wheeled in the table and assisted me with getting my legs into the stirrups. After breaking my water, the gynecologist said I was ready. "Alright, Ms. Evenson, we're going to have you start pushing, now."

Carlisle took my hand. He was a doctor, for God's sake. He had done this for women in a round in medical school, had been there for the delivery of his son with his ex-wife only a short time ago, but he was scared. All modesty went out the window when the doctor lifted the sheet and turned up the light. My crotch was completely exposed, now.

"Take a deep breath and push down into your rear end," the nurse coached me.

I pushed down as instructed. The pain of the baby's head- I could handle this. They coached me to push again. I kept on pushing and then, I felt something tearing. I screamed.

"It's crowning!" Carlisle shouted. "Come on, just a little more!"

"Push, Ms. Evenson," my gynecologist said.

I pushed harder and felt the girl coming out. They wrenched her out.

"Oh God," I mumbled.

"It's definitely a girl, Esme," Carlisle said. They cleared up the mucous on her eyes, mouth, nose and ears. "She's beautiful!"

She began crying.

"She's a little early, but she's fine," the pediatrician said. "Would you like to cut the cord Mister... um..."

"Is that alright with you, Esme?" Carlisle asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Please do."

He cut the cord and they handed my new daughter to me. She stopped screaming the moment she came into my ams.

At that moment, I didn't care that I had my legs open and my crotch completely exposed to the world. I saw a beautiful little face with blue eyes and the same dark newborn hair as her brother. With Emmett, I hadn't been able to hold him until the anesthesia wore off. Charles had held him and had held him down to my eye level so I could see him. This was different. There were little bubbles coming out of her mouth and she gurgled slightly. I had forgotten how little a baby could be. I felt her little hand and counted each finger, and then the other. Ten perfect little fingers. I counted her toes the same way, squeezing each one. Ten perfect little toes. All my debt, all my woes, all my troubles seemed to evaporate.

After my placenta came out, they took the baby and put her in a crib with a warming light and put a diaper on her. I was left to rest.

"This was a much easier birth than Edward's," Carlisle said, standing by the crib, playing with the baby's little hand. She twitched slightly.

"It was very different from Emmett's," I said. I glanced out the window- the early streams of morning light were shining out over the horizon. "Thank you for staying."

"No problem. This isn't something you can do on your own," he said. There was an awkward pause between us. "So, what are you going to name her?"

"Well, since she was so tiny in the womb and everybody was talking about how petite she was, I'm going to name her after one of my great-aunts who was really petite and always early and would complain that we were late," I said. "Mary Alice. I called my aunt Mary, so I'm going to call my baby Alice."

"She's going to be a looker," he said. "I can already see it."

They moved me to a recovery room where they assisted me with getting her to latch on. She didn't at first, but that afternoon, she finally did. Carlisle called Heather to see if everything was going okay. She said no, it wasn't. Edward had been up all night and nothing had calmed him down. Carlisle had to go home to get Edward and Emmett and find a new baby-sitter. I took a few minutes to sleep while Alice was out.

As I laid down, I was reminded of all the best things about when Emmett was a newborn that I hadn't really gotten to enjoy. I'd get a chance to enjoy them with Alice, now. She woke up hungry at about ten, and I had to nurse her again. They had given her a bath a few hours after her birth before we left the L&D room. I was still having the colostrum milk and she had had a meconium stool. The L&D nurses looked at her and stated we were doing well.

Carlisle came back to the hospital to see me. "Found a new baby-sitter," he said. "I can't believe we've got three non-walking babies between the three of us."

"Emmett will be up and walking, soon," I said. "He's already pulling up on things."

"It's been done before," he said. "By lots of couples."

The released me early since Alice and I were doing so well. Charles didn't even come by to visit although I had called him. I supposed that was because I wasn't his wife any more, he wasn't interested in being the new baby's father.

Carlisle took me to Starbucks for a decaff coffee and then we brought Alice home. He picked up Emmett and Edward and brought them by.

Edward was miserable, as usual. I wondered why. He started crying- he was inconsolable. Once he started crying, all the other babies started crying. I wondered how Carlisle got through it all.

"I really think he's having digestive problems. He hasn't eaten much in the past two days," Carlisle said.

"He probably missed you," I said, swaddling Alice and putting her in Emmett's old baby swing. I turned it on, but Alice wailed. I had an idea, suddenly. What baby Edward was looking for and wasn't getting. I undid my nursing bra and slipping my breast down to Edward's level. He didn't quit get it.

"Esme, don't-"

"No, let's try this," I said. "He's not eating, this is a bad thing. Come on, sweetheart." The baby rejected my breast, just like he had when we offered him bottles. For a moment, I thought that my idea had been stupid. And then, he took to it perfectly. He began to suck. "This is what he's wanted, all this time. His body doesn't like the formula. That's what it is, listening to the baby, they tell us things, see?"

Within a few minutes, Edward had calmed down and needed to burp. I gently patted his little back and a loud burp came out. I switched breasts. All was peaceful for a few minutes.

"Is this real?" Carlisle asked. "My son is calm and fed? I thought he'd be one of those anorexic babies." His head dipped down and I could have sworn he was crying. "I thought I was the worst parent in the world. Or that Liz had done too many prescriptions while pregnant with him."

"No, How awful. He wanted breast milk and didn't have a breast to get it from," I said. "You poor thing. Look, I'll share my breast milk with Edward. If I can just nurse him enough on a regular basis, I think we'll have enough milk between Alice and Edward."

"I thought I could do this all by myself," he said. "Maybe it was foolish to separate from Liz so easily-"

"No, I saw you that night," I said, "when she wrecked the garage door. She'd have hurt Edward eventually. You made the right choice. It's just fate that you moved in next door to me. Maybe Edward should sleep over here tonight in the nursery." His face fell. "I've got a guest bedroom." The little guy was asleep in my arms. He was sleeping so soundly, now. "He can sleep in Alice's crib. Alice can sleep in the bed with me. It'll all work out."

"Alright."

This was the way we lived for a few weeks. I breast fed his son and my daughter on a schedule. I figured out that I was always constantly nursing and never getting anything done when I tried to nurse them separately. I figured that I had to nurse them together. I had to treat them like twins, almost.

I finally just took off my bra and shirt and sat on the floor with my legs crossed, leaned forward, my knees lifted up. I put Alice on one leg and Edward on the other. They started nursing and most of the time, I'd have a book to read. Edward's digestion problems subsided and he started gaining weight and having healthy BMs when I changed his diapers. Who knows how long this "illness" would have gone on while Carlisle would have taken him to doctor to doctor who probably wouldn't have known something so simple for the solution.

On Carlisle's last night off from his residency, we were burping the kids after I had buttoned up my shirt when Carlisle said, "You know, I haven't interviewed any nannies, yet."

"What?" I cried. "Carlisle, you're going back to work tomorrow!"

"Esme, I was thinking... since you're so good with Edward, our wetnursing situation... why don't you be Edward's nanny? You're looking for a job. I'm looking to pay someone who will act like a mother while I'm out for Edward," he said. He laid Edward across his chest. The baby was sleeping soundly.

"I don't know," I said. "I need regular work."

"It will be regular work," he said. "Look, I know it will go on for twenty-four hours a time with my shifts. And for you to give us breast milk for twenty-four hours and then some... I feel like maybe Edward and Alice are going to get attached to each other. And you're worried about what your kids will get exposed to if they're sent to day cares. So, why not stay home and take care of them?"

I looked at Edward, his little mouth open and snoring slightly on his father's chest. With two more kids, what was one more? I liked being a mother. So far, there wasn't a better job out there. I had to be practical, though. "How's that going to work out? Paychecks and taxes and food stamps?" I asked.

"Since when were you on food stamps?" he said loudly. Edward stirred.

"Since my husband left," I said.

"Esme, you left plates of food at my door for weeks! I had no idea you were hard-up for money!"

"Of course, couldn't you tell?" I asked. I had explained to him how I was going to have to apply for jobs once Alice was old enough for day care.

"I would have proposed this sooner if I had known," he muttered. "Esme, you were feeding me out of your food stamp money!"

"I know," I said. "I was trying to be charitable."

"If you knew anything about me, you'd understand I don't need charity," he said. "Esme, look... I'll pay you eighty dollars for every eight hours you watch Edward."

I thought about it. For every twenty-four hours he worked? That would be over seven hundred dollars a week if he worked three shifts a week. Over twenty-five hundred a month, at least. I'd be able to get off welfare and food stamps and have some pride about me for once. But still, I felt like I was jumping into it. Every bad thing that had ever happened to me happened because I had jumped into things without thinking them through. I felt the need to proceed with caution. "I'll watch him just this week," I said. "And I'll think about it."

"Great," he said. "Thank you, Esme."

As I slept in the bed with tiny little Alice in my arms, I promised myself I'd think all my choices that changed my life through. But, before I could think really thoroughly, I fell asleep.

Edward woke up and needed nursing, so I nursed both him and Alice around two. I read a few chapters of my book while they nursed, since my head wasn't so clear.

I let the kids wake me up in the morning. When I did, Carlisle was gone. He had left very early, I guessed.

I managed to figure out a way to feed Emmett while propping Edward and Alice up to my breasts, so everyone was eating but me. Ugh. Babies. They were selfish creatures. Good thing they were so cute.

After I had a morning diaper change for Emmett, we went for a walk so we could get some fresh air. I was able to squeeze Edward and Alice into one stroller seat in the double jog stroller while they napped and Emmett very happily took the front seat. He was usually a big flirt and waved, grinned his dimples and batted his eyelashes at people in our path.

As for my former walking partners, Heather wasn't incredibly fond of me after trying to watch Edward while Alice was being born. I tried to explain to her that he had completely changed from a breast milk diet, but she wasn't having it. A lot of people in this neighborhood kept their distance from me. I think a lot of it had to do with that I had been so weird while married to Charles, and once I divorced him, then I seemed to quickly hook up with Carlisle, who wasn't finished divorcing his crazy wife who had beaten him up and destroyed the garage door for the whole neighborhood to see. The gossip mongers in the neighborhood drank it in and twisted it. They didn't understand that Edward needed me to be his wetnurse. It was too difficult to explain that this was the reason he was staying at my house instead of his own. I was certain the whole neighborhood watched my house with binoculars and took note of when Carlisle went in and came out.

I went home and did a massive diaper change operation and started mid-morning snack before I realized I hadn't eaten yet this morning. After I got everyone fed, changed and in the crib, I made brunch for myself.

My day consisted mostly of playing with Emmett, feeding and diapering all three of them.

I wanted to go out, but I was sort of stuck. While I had Edward's carseat, my little sedan couldn't seat three carseats in the back. As heavy as Emmett was, I couldn't justify putting his carseat in the front seat.

It was sort of lonely without Carlisle to talk to in the house after the kids were put down to sleep. I caught up on cleaning and making a meals for myself that could be microwaved. In the middle of the night, I went up to get Alice and Edward, who needed nursing.

I woke myself up early and took a shower before the kids woke up. I took the kids downstairs in rounds. Emmett had to be in his playpen so he didn't get too aggressive with the newborns. I fed him from the table-top high chair while I nursed Alice and Edward. Around the time I finished, Carlisle walked in the door.

"Hi, everyone!"

"Look, it's Daddy!" I prompted, picking him up. I handed him over to Carlisle. "How was your shift?"

"It went well," he said. "How was Edward?"

"Eh, he was a baby," I said. "It went over well. We took a long walk yesterday. The sunshine was good for us all."

"I'm pretty worn out," he said. "I'm going to go home and crash for a few hours. Do you mind watching Edward for a little while longer?"

"No, that's fine," I said.

Carlisle only slept about five hours before coming back, his hair wet from a recent shower. We took the kids on an afternoon walk, meeting a few other people in the neighborhood. We were mistaken for a couple, obviously. I didn't mind it, though, once we corrected them.

"I couldn't leave the house," I admitted as we headed back home. "There's no way when I can't fit all three carseats in the back of my car."

"I tell you what," Carlisle said. "Why don't we trade cars while I'm at work, then? My SUV can handle three carseats easily."

When we got home, he showed me the bucket seats and then bench seat in the back that could be adjusted and moved. "You can take them out, as long as Emmett doesn't start running, soon."

"Well, that might burn off his chub. But, I'll miss his chub," I moaned, picking up Emmett, kissing his little fat rolls on his thighs.

That night while I was nursing Alice and Edward, Emmett did his usual pulling up off the couch.

"You better watch out, he'll be walking, soon," Carlisle said. "Just like he talks all the time."

"He doesn't talk!" I cried. He jabbered and gurgled, but he wasn't talking.

"Yes he does. He says 'amamamamama.'"

"That's gibberish," I argued.

"No, it's not, he's saying 'Mama.' He says it all the time. At least around me."

"Amamamamama,'" Emmett said for effect. He gave me one of those dimpled grins, displaying the two little knots on his gums where his front teeth were threatening to come out. I needed to give him another dose of baby Tylenol soon or he'd be screaming in a few minutes.

"See?" Carlisle said.

"Amamamamamama," Emmett continued. And then, he let go of the couch and ran across the room to Carlisle in the armchair.

I cried out and Alice and Edward stopped nursing, curious as to what was going on. "Emmett!" I cried.

Carlisle scooped him up. "Good boy!" he cried, laughing. "He didn't walk, he ran! See? Say 'Dadadadadadadada.'"

Emmett just looked at him strangely.

My little boy wasn't a baby any more. He was a full-on toddler. I was a little upset over that. I couldn't hold him anymore. He could get around without my help, now.

As Emmett got better and better at walking, I had to keep him from being aggressive with the babies. I found a mother's day out program once a week at the local Catholic Church and left the kids there once a week so I could have a few hours off myself. I checked a mother's message board daily to ask about feeding twins. I eventually explained that I was wetnursing for a male friend who had recently become a father and was a single parent. There was a lot of 'You don't hear of that too often any more' in response, but the largest response I got was to start using a breast pump for Edward.

Carlisle surprised me on my birthday with a hospital-grade breast pump. Once I figured it out, I found a way to freeze air-tight packages of milk so Carlisle could take Edward away more often and he wouldn't have to stay with me so much. He wanted to take Edward to see his parents in Sacramento. They had briefly met the baby in the hospital. I wondered if he ever explained our situation to his parents. I hardly ever heard of wet nurses anymore.

To my surprise, I got an email one day that asked me for an interview about wetnursing. The _Seattle Times_ wanted to interview me for a story on wetnursing.

Carlisle and I decided we'd do the interview.

A few days later, a fat, portly woman came by to ask questions on Carlisle's day off. They took conservative photos of me with my shirt unbuttoned, nursing, while watching my babies as I nursed them with Carlisle on the floor playing with Emmett. I spoke about how parents of twins had given me great advice. When asked if there was anything romantic between Carlisle and I, we both denied it vehemently, claiming to be just friends and neighbors. Carlisle went on to say that it was only natural that people mistook us for a family. I showed her my stash of breast milk in my freezer that I often gave to Carlisle so he could take Edward places like the pediatrician's office and home.

Ten days later, in the Sunday paper, I saw an article in the Family Section with a picture of me in the nursing position, looking down at the kids. I had hoped there'd be a happier expression on my face, but no. Carlisle was tossing Emmett in the air in the background. The caption said, "Surprisingly, this is not the picture of a happy family, it is the picture of a wetnurse with her daughter and her charge. Wetnursing is making a comeback."

I read the story. She had written a story about how wetnursing hadn't completely died over the years- it was on the rise with Gay, Lesbian and transgendered couples adopting, wanting to give their children the best options possible. And then the women who had breast augmentation like implants and breast reductions not being able to produce milk for their babies, but wanting that for them. Carlisle and I were only a short couple of paragraphs as an example of me doing a "neighborly duty" because Carlisle's ex-wife had left him with a baby and Edward needed breast milk because his body was rejecting formula. And that was it. There were no explanations that Carlisle and I weren't romantically involved except for the picture of us and the caption. Great. The neighbors would be practically snickering behind their hands as we walked down the street, now.

"Well, that's the media for you," Carlisle muttered, reading it.

It took me a while to get over being mad at the newspaper. We calmed down over time when I ordered baby costumes for Halloween for Alice and Emmett online. By now, Edward was rolling over and sitting up and Alice couldn't allow him to beat her at anything. She insisted on rolling over and was working on sitting up, but couldn't quite get it. I dressed her as a little blooming flower and Emmett as a bag of Wonderbread.

Carlisle came over on Halloween with Edward dressed as a Jedi and he was Obi Wan Kenobi. "You're killing me," I said. "Obi Wan?"

"I gotta raise my boy right," he said, shrugging. "How dare you call me out when you dress your son like Wonderbread? Where's your costume?"

I hadn't worn a costume in years. "You're kidding, right?" I asked. We watched TV while I fed the babies and Carlisle answered the Trick-or-Treaters. Emmett made a few fans with his Wonderbread costume.

We took the kids out to the neighbor's houses just to make nice, but after we got to show off their costumes. We were pretty much shoved out the door.

"I've got the feeling nobody wants us in their house," I said.

"Neighbors are temporary," Carlisle said. "There's going to be a day when you can move away from here and start fresh with your family."

"What about you?"

"My residency is going to be over soon," he said. "I'll have to move on when I get my internship in cardiology."

"To sell this house?"

"For some reason, I feel like this is more a temporary dwelling than anything. Your house is more the one we live in. I sometimes feel like your raising him, sometimes," he said.

"No, I'm not!" I cried. "I'm... just doing a job."

"Is that what you think Edward and I are? A job?"

"No! I didn't mean..." I hadn't through about what I was saying. "Do you ever think of how much I'm bonding with Edward and how you're going to take him away one day? And I'm not going to have any say in it?"

We didn't say anything for a few minutes. It was the truth- I was acting as Edward's mother, but there was no way I'd be able to ween Edward and not mourn that I was losing him. He was turning out to be an opinionated baby, I knew his personality as well as Carlisle, if not better. Edward would grunt in dissatisfaction if I was playing or speaking or singing to him and suddenly stopped to answer the phone or what not. I'd nibble on his toes and fingers and tummy to make him smile after changing him. Alice was a clown- she laughed whenever she heard me laughing, even if I was laughing along with the TV or something Carlisle said, as if she got the joke. The only times she wasn't giggling and smiling for everyone was when she was tired, hungry or had a fever.

I loved the three children so much. My babies, although Emmett definitely wasn't a baby. Carlisle and Edward spent a lot of time with us, anyway.

It was about two weeks before Thanksgiving when I took the kids out to the park to enjoy the weather. The women there didn't know me at all and didn't know that Carlisle and Edward pretty much lived with me. It was adult interaction that was nice. There was one lady who had a beautiful little girl. Her name was Gina and the toddler was Georgia who played with Emmett on the playground. We were sitting together, cuddling with Edward and Alice, when she said, "Evan and I are talking about getting married."

"That's great!" I cried. She was a single mother and had met a boyfriend in the past two months. "Isn't that really soon, though?" I asked, thinking of Charles.

"Oh no, he _wants_ to be a father," she said. "Actually, Esme, I haven't told you this, but he actually _is_ a father."

"Really?" I asked.

"He had this crazy harpy of an ex-wife who demanded his kids and lied in court, and got them," she said. "He pays, like, an insane amount of money in alimony and child support. She was having an affair with the doctor next door though, and he's wondering if his daughter was even his."

I felt a chill run down my spine. Evan. Charles was called Evan in high school.

"But, picture it, I'll be Mrs. Charles Evenson."

Why hadn't I seen this?

"Gina, I gotta go," I said, putting Edward in the stroller. I picked up Alice. "I forgot about something. I'll see you later."

I grabbed Emmett, who screamed and cried and kicked as I put him in the stroller and ran for the car.

I had an anxiety attack in the car.

Charles was moving on to someone else that was just as naïve. I began to cry. A friend was moving onto the same fate as me. He was taking her in and was going to destroy her. God knows what he'd do to her daughter.

I spent a few hours collecting myself. When Carlisle got home to pick up Edward, I had some food already made. "You're really quiet tonight," he said.

"I know," I said. "Are you going to stay for dinner?"

"Sure," he said.

We had a quick dinner before I had to feed the kids. I didn't have much of an appetite. "So, what happened?" he asked.

"I found out a friend of mine at the park is dating my ex-husband," I said. "He's telling a lot of bullshit stories about me."

"Sit!" Emmett cried. "Sit! Sit!" I realized he was trying to say _shit_. I groaned.

"Don't worry about that, he's going to get to wear it out," he said. "Didn't she know who you were?"

"No. But I'm wondering if I should say something."

"She wouldn't listen. Why would he admit to his part in the divorce? Ever? He walks on water to her."

I took a deep breath. "There's a lot you don't know about my ex, Carlisle."

"I can read between the lines."

I sighed.

"Esme, it's something we have in common," he said.

I picked up Alice. "Can I have Edward, now?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, Handing Edward over. I unbuttoned my shirt and undid my nursing bra, getting myself into position. "Esme," he said, running a hand through my hair. "You're not responsible for her decisions."

"But there's a baby," I said. "A child. He's going to destroy them both."

"There isn't much you can do. Just tell her. And just leave it from there."

I felt like crying again. Why couldn't I just take her away from him? To save her the heartache?

"I know what you're thinking," he said, sitting down beside me. "You've got enough to worry about, Esme."

He took my hand.

I took a deep breath and exhaled to let the stress out. I could speak to her. And that was it. I knew it deep down even before Carlisle said anything.

We put Alice down and put Edward in the swing once I was done nursing. I put Emmett in the bath and Carlisle read a story to him, which had become our bedtime ritual. Emmett was still chanting "Sit! Sit!" but not with as much aplomb. We got Emmett to bed.

Carlisle went downstairs and picked up Edward. "I know, it's on your mind," he said as I wrapped Edward up in a blanket. I handed Edward to him with a few bags of breast milk.

"Here." Gina stayed on my mind, still.

"Esme," he said. "I know." He slipped his freearm around me. "I'm sorry."

The feeling of his hands on my back suddenly released all the pressure in my muscles. I hasn't realized how much I needed to be touched until just now. Not in a sexual way, but just to be touched.

He felt it.

And then, he kissed me.

We did not acknowledge the kiss for several weeks. Carlisle planned out a trip with Edward to California for Thanksgiving to see his parents. They were very eager to see him. I missed him and felt a little lonely when nursing Alice alone. I felt tired and depressed with them gone. I was relieved when they came back.

"I missed you," I told him. "Both of you."

"Edward missed you a lot," he said. I looked at Edward and realized that there was dark red fuzzy hair on the baby's head that seemed to have sprung up over a weekend.

"He's changed so much!" I cried. "I'm so sad I missed it!"

"It's cute, isn't it?" he asked. Edward had had black newborn hair but it was now red. I realized something else.

"His eyes are turning colors!" I cried.

"Really?" Carlisle asked. "Liz had green eyes. I'm going to be pissed if they turn brown." I looked up into Carlisle's eyes.

"Why?" I asked.

"I'm blue eyed," he said. "Two light-eyed people can't have a brown-eyed child. It's genetics. Look, why don't we pick out a tree? It's officially Christmastime!"

We bundled the kids up and put them in the car, Carlisle finding the perfect tree farm where we could choose our own. We had to go through a cabin filled with Christmas decorations for sale before we could enter the farm. They offered us a cider, coffee and hot chocolate, but I didn't see how I could handle a drink while holding Edward and keeping an eye on Emmett, who wanted to get into everything.

Carlisle met up with a farmhand who told him to let him know when he and his daughter- we smiled- found the right tree. We combed the rows of trees until we found one without holes and lots of brown needles that was just the right size. We put our marker on it and called the farmhand, who cut it down and shook down all the extra needles. When he tied it to the roof of the SUV, I stopped in the cabin and got some ornaments.

Carlisle took the tree down from the car and we set it up and put water in the stand. "I got something," I said, opening up the bag with the ornaments wrapped in tissue paper. I pulled out the first one. It said, _Baby's first Christmas Alice. _"One more," I said, getting out the other one. _Baby's first Christmas Edward_.

I couldn't read Carlisle's expression for a moment. "Was this going too far?" I asked.

"No," he said. "How did you know?"

"About what?" I asked.

"I'm working until four pm on Christmas Eve. There's no way I'm going to be able to take Edward home."

"Oh... So, we'll have a good Christmas together," I said.

"Why don't we go shopping for the kid's presents, then?"

"Online shopping sounds great," I said.

We ordered presents for the kids off Amazon and laid back to relax while I baked Christmas cookies.

I took the kids to the Snow Village in Seattle while Carlisle was gone. I dressed them in Christmas sweaters and decorated my little town house. I never heard from Charles.

We were watching a _Charlie Brown Christmas_ on Christmas Eve when Carlisle came in the door. "Merry Christmas everybody!"

"Hi," I said. "How was your shift?"

"It went well," he said, shedding his jacket and scarf. He proceeded to tell me all sorts of things that went on in his OR. We fed the kids and Carlisle read _The Night Before Christmas, _taking pictures of the kids as they sat up, playing with the little trinkets I left out around the house. I put the babies in the bathtub and put them to bed. Emmett was so excited about Christmas so we lit a fire and made more Christmas cookies for Santa for Emmett to lay out. He ate one and we took pictures of him sneaking cookies.

After I gave him a bath and put him in his Christmas pajamas, I put Emmers to bed in his new big-boy bed I had bought recently, kissing him. "Good night, Emmett. Merry Christmas."

"Night, Mama," he replied. "Santa?"

"Yes, he is," I said. "But you have to go to sleep first. He won't come if you're not asleep!"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I asleep!"

I kissed him on the tummy. "Yes you are. Good boy."

I went downstairs and Carlisle had already brought out one of the boxes I had kept hidden in my closet. It was a toy that we needed to assemble for Emmett. He opened it with his key and got out the different pieces in little plastic baggies.

"Oh boy," I muttered. "This is going to be fun."

We sorted the pieces and started putting together the bits. Finally, it started resembling the toy. "I think we deserve some wine," he said, standing up.

"I don't drink," I said. "I don't think I ever have."

"Come on," he said. "It's Christmas." He poured a few glasses and set one down for me.

I picked it up and took a sip. It wasn't bad. He went down to the floor to finish up the toy.

We worked on another one, knowing that we'd be up ridiculously late.

"Alright, directions say I need screw U."

"Carlisle, that's not funny."

He chuckled. "No, I'm serious." He handed me the directions. I looked at it and he had to point out the line. "See? Screw U."

"That's not screw you, it's Screw N!" I cried. I couldn't help but guffaw. "I think that's the first dirty joke I've ever heard out of your mouth." I shoved him back onto the carpet.

"You like dirty jokes? I know a bunch of them. We tell them in the OR all the time while the patients are out cold."

"Like what?" I asked. The wine was making me silly, so I climbed on top of him.

"A man and a woman started to have sex in the middle of a dark forest. After about 15 minutes of it, the man finally gets up and says, "Damn, I wish I had a flashlight!". The woman says, "Me too, you've been eating grass for the past ten minutes!""

"That's not too terribly bad," I said.

"Okay..." he said. "This couple were in bed getting busy when the girl places the guys hand onto her pussy. "Put your finger in me..." she asks him. So he does without hesitation, as she starts moaning. "Put two fingers in...", she says. So in goes another one. She's really starting to get worked up when she says, "Put your whole hand in!". The guy's like, "Ok!". So he has his entire hand in, when she says moaning aloud "Put both your hands inside of me!!!". So the guy puts both of his hands in! "Now clap your hands..." commands the girl. "I can't", says the guy. The girl looks at him and says "See, I told you I had a tight pussy!""

"Ew!" I cried, giggling. I tried to get off him, but I felt something I didn't expect- to enjoy being with him. I liked his hands on my hips. My giggles stopped. "Carlisle, why are we fighting this?"

He moved underneath me. "I don't know."

"I don't want to be apart anymore," I said. "Why not?"

And that was the end of the conversation. I kissed along his stomach, lifting up his light blue scrub shirt with my mouth. I hadn't anticipated how nice his stomach was- just enough tone but not enough to make me feel inadequate. I kissed my way up to his nipple- and sucked, swirling my tongue around it. It seemed kind of odd to want him like this when we had never fooled around before. I had spent months fooling around before actually committing the deed with Charles. But Carlisle was new, different, just different enough. I pulled his shirt up over his head and he assisted me with pulling it off. He pulled off my own sweater and I quickly discarded my nursing bra, knowing how unsexy it was. I got a quick whiff of soured breast milk as I tossed it off, cringing. His hands reached up and cupped my breasts, his cold fingers brushing against my nipples. I shivered, rubbing myself against his hips. He exhaled a bit as I did so, and I could feel him hardening under my seat.

He unbuttoned my jeans but, before I allowed myself to think, I untied and unsnapped the fly of his scrubs, and took his cock out. I took him into my mouth.

Honestly, I wasn't very good at this. I had never done it before, but it just felt right when his hand laced into my hair right as the head hit my tonsils.

"Further down," Carlisle instructed. "Relax your throat."

I tried to breathe through my nose and relaxed my throat. I had to take a few deep breaths before I took it back into my throat. My nose hit his pubic bone and I kept it down as long as I could. "Hum a little bit," he said.

I realized there were tears running down my cheeks by now, just from the effort. I groaned softly, and gagged. I pulled him out before I vomited, his penis coming out of my mouth with a pop.

"That was a good start," he said.

"No more," I muttered, wiping my tears, taking in a deep breath. I didn't realize I was out of breath. "For now."

"You've never done that before?"

I nodded. I didn't want to talk about all the things I didn't do with Charles, how I always took it in the missionary position, how I felt so betrayed by the Catholic Church that dictated every intimate detail of my life, how I let Charles push me around because I felt like that was what was encouraged. I choked on a few sobs. I felt completely let down. I was a single mother now, my ex-husband didn't even want me or our children, he had abandoned them and was lying about us.

"It's alright," he said quietly, stroking my arm. "I know."

I wriggled out of my jeans and panties, leaving them on the floor beside us and mounted Carlisle. I impaled myself ontop of him.

I felt a sharp pain for a moment. Something was wrong.

But, it subsided. I was fine. _Don't think. Just love him._

I spoke his name.

No sweeter words had ever come from my mouth.

We left the Christmas presents unfinished that night. We went to bed that night and he laced his fingers between mine. It just seemed natural when I told him I loved him. And he said he loved me back. Our lives were destined to be intertwined in a strange twist of fate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N- Special thanks to my beta, LisaCA707. This story kept on begging me to be told. I'm not expecting it to do well because it's not a B/E story, but I'm posting it for who bought me almost a year ago for FGB.  
**

* * *

Eighteen Months later

Today was not a great day for the kids.

Emmett wouldn't take his nap and was a complete grump by three. Edward still wasn't grasping potty training; he wet the bed in his room and Alice was still teething, running a fever. Having three children at this age at the same time was anything but easy. Alice let me know when she wasn't doing well. I had been through the terrible twos with Emmett, now it was Edward and Alice's turn.

That night in particular, Carlisle called me to tell me he was staying a little longer in the ER because of a busy night. I got the children fed and bathed and started the bedtime stories. Still no Carlisle.

I turned out the lights and waited for them to get up, which they inevitably did. I always put them back in bed. I changed into my pajamas and watched my favorite nighttime shows. Still no Carlisle.

I went to bed, turned out the lights and told myself it was just a busy night. I couldn't fall asleep until after I got a text from Carlisle that he was just leaving the ER. That was better.

When I woke up, I heard Carlisle's car in the driveway. I tried to stay awake. I heard him come up the stairs and heard his footsteps divert into Alice's room. Well, that was pretty normal. I heard him go the boy's room for a few minutes and then—finally—he came to our room.

"Hi," I whispered. "Come here."

"Just a moment," he said, taking off his scrub shirt to go to the bathroom. He usually took a shower at the hospital before coming home.

He took forever in the shower. I didn't want to wake up early tomorrow morning without a lot of sleep. The kids had no pity on me. Carlisle usually slept in the day after work and then he'd spend time with them.

I was so irritated with him that by the time he got out of the shower, I wasn't in the mood any more. I rolled over on my side so I wasn't facing his side.

He finally came out, opening the door, letting light spill into the room.

"Do you have to do that?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Do you have to wake me up with turning the light on?"

"I didn't!" the light flipped off.

"Yes, you did. The bathroom light. And it bothers me... Look, the kids are going to wake me up early and it's my kindness to you that I let you sleep in."

He groaned. "Come on, don't pull that guilt trip on me."

"I'm not," I said. "Just think. About how you're affecting me."

I felt his weight shifting the bed. His naked cock poked my ass.

I sighed. "You don't think you're going to get any tonight do you?"

He curled up behind me. "Honey," he said. "I just didn't want the smell of the hospital on me when I came home." He kissed along my neck. "What's the matter?"

"That shower was awfully long."

"I was thinking about you the whole time." He his hand slipped up my stomach under my top and cupped my breast. He stroked my nipple, but I could not let him get to me. "Come on; don't shut me down like this."

"Is this what it's going to be like?" I asked, shrugging him away, rolling over to face him. "In five years? When you come home late, make me wait, and wear me out? You'll still expect me to be... to be the best mom I can to the kids? I need my rest, Carlisle. Don't make this some kind of game."

"Who says I am?" he cried.

"Shh!" I hissed. "The kids! You're naked right now."

"I just want to be close to you when I get home."

I sighed, flattening myself on my back, staring at the ceiling. "Would it kill you think about what I have to do?"

"Excuse me, I work."

That was it. I gasped and sat up. "And I don't?"

"I don't see you busting your ass every morning to get up and go to a hospital or an office and do something that's actually- actually-"

"That's actually what? Challenging? Motherhood is challenging, Carlisle! Motherhood is a job! How dare you insinuate it isn't? The difference between my job and yours is that I don't get a day off."

He sighed and rolled over on his back. "You can have a day off from Edward any time you want. And I don't have to act like your kids' father, you know."

His words stung. How could he do that? Say that to me? I felt stupid suddenly, because I knew he was right. Up to a point, I was his employee. We had entered into this arrangement together; he paid the bills and I took care of the babies. I had gotten a total of two alimony and child support checks from Charles Evanson and that was it. Sex with Carlisle had helped us take a dive into something more serious... I thought. "Don't do that to me," I said, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.

"You wanted a relationship," he said, getting up out of the bed. His naked form was almost silver in my night vision, getting his pajamas on. "I could have held back and let you keep on struggling with child support and bills. But I love you enough to keep that from happening to you."

I almost blurted out I was sorry, but I wasn't. He grabbed the pillow, and I grabbed it from him. "Wait," I said.

He stood there, shrugging. "Yes?" He totally wanted me to apologize to him.

"I don't know. I'm just... Let's just go to bed," I said. "I want to sleep on it."

He tossed his t-shirt off and climbed into bed again. "Fine," he said.

We laid in bed for hours. My head kept on running. He was trying to get me to apologize for my feelings. I wasn't going to apologize. I could be stubborn, but I wouldn't feel betrayed and irritated by his actions if there was no justifiable cause.

"Are you still awake?"

"Yes," I said.

"I have something to tell you."

He was sorry? He didn't mean to make me feel like this?

"I got an internship offer in Portland."

I understood now why he was working so hard lately. "Portland?" I repeated. I had been there with Charles a few times. I knew Carlisle was applying there. It would be that much closer to his mother and father in Blue Blood Old-Money San Francisco. Well, it wasn't all the way there. "I could do Portland."

"That's the thing, Esme," he said. "I don't know if you can come with me."

My heart suddenly stopped beating, if only for a second, but it felt like eternity. The enormity of it all fell onto me. "Wh- no!" I cried. "You're leaving me?"

"I just... we both knew this day was coming, Esme."

All I could think about was my life as a stay-at-home mom was coming to a close. It made sense why he tried so hard to get me get Charles to pay his back-owed child support and alimony in the last two months. He had been orchestrating this for a long time. He had planned this. I sat up, clutching my hand to my mouth. I felt used and dirty- and sick. We had been having sex all those months. I realized I was hyperventilating.

"Honey, don't," his arms suddenly slipped around me.

He had been fucking me while I was making love to him. Goddamn him. I hated him suddenly. "Fuck," I sneered. "All this time-" I hiccuped, "-all this time, you've been planning on leaving me? My kids? Right after you-" hiccup "-lecture me about being Dad to my kids?"

"It's not like that," he said.

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it's not."

It wasn't? "Then what the hell was- was- everything! You could have warned me!"

I couldn't think clearly. I was absolutely furious.

That was it. I started to bawl like a small child, I didn't care if I woke the children. How could he just drop a bomb like this on me in the middle of the night?

I didn't know what else to do.

* * *

Sometime between Carlisle's bomb and four in the morning, Edward woke up. He had wet the bed again. He was crying and when I came into his room, I picked him up from his big boy bed and began crying with him.

"Mamma?" he asked.

I choked on a few more tears, not able to tell him what was happening. I loved this little boy more than the whole world- just as much as my children.

How had we gotten here? I loved his son. I was his mother. I had never thought of myself not as his mother. What would happen to him if I wasn't there?

I didn't care that there was cold pee getting all over me. I didn't want to let my baby boy go.

* * *

Everything was difficult in the next few months. Carlisle slept on the couch and was what I had always wanted him to be: the perfect dad. He put the kids to bed and took them out. Then, Emmett asked me why I was crying while Carlisle made mac and cheese in the kitchen.

We had to tell them. He had been too young to miss Evan leaving me, but this would scar him for life. "Daddy is moving away and taking Edward," I said.

Emmett's face twisted into horror as he comprehended it. "Nooo!" he screamed and the tears started. "No, Daddy, don't go!"

"Daddy!" Alice and Edward sobbed.

There was a puddle on the floor; Edward had wet himself again.

Carlisle flung the wooden spoon across the kitchen in frustration. "Goddamnit, Esme, why did you have to do that?"

"They were going to find out eventually!" I shouted. "Were you just going to pack up yourself and Edward one day and then drive off? They're old enough to understand! They're going to know!"

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, taking a few deep breaths. "I'm going to calm down," he said, going out to the garage.

"I'll always love you," I promised my children, taking all three into my arms. "I'll always be your mommy."

I could only imagine the abandonment issues the three of them would have.

I cleaned Edward up and put his pants and underoos in the wash.

He came back in after the kids stopped sobbing and they bordered on being upset again.

"Okay," he said, kneeling in front of them. "I'm always going to be Daddy. That's not going to change. But I can only take Edward with me to Portland."

"I don't want to go!" Edward sobbed.

"We have to," Carlisle said. "I'm going to love both of you forever."

"You deal with this," I said, getting up.

Once he got the kids in bed and I got to say good-night to them, I cleaned up the kitchen.

"Esme, let's not do this," Carlisle said.

What? Was he asking me to come back. "Yes?" I asked, sounding a little too hopeful.

"Let's not put the kids in this position," he said.

"Fuck!" I cried. "You're using the kids as pawns? All I can think about is the abandonment issues they're going to have!"

"And you're acting so mature?"

"At least I think of them!" I took a few deep breaths. Well... maybe I was being immature about this. "I don't even know what I'm going to do."

He sighed. "Get a job?"

"Asshole."

"Well, what else are you going to do?"

I sighed. "I don't know." Finding another sugar daddy wasn't going to work. I wasn't quite a hot piece of ass. I had never been. I suddenly felt my world slipping away even more.

"I'll be the best professional recommendation you've ever had," he said. "Esme, I'm sorry I'm putting you through this."

"Then why are you?"

"I just feel like... it's just me, I guess."

"Was I not enough? Is there someone else?" I asked, thinking of the horrible statistic that it was doctors who had the most affairs that I had read in _Cosmopolitan_ at my hairdresser's salon.

"No," he said. "Nobody could ever top you, baby. Ever. I'm just not ready to have you acting like my wife. I don't think you're really ready for it either, deep down. But I still care so much about you. And I always will."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N- Special thanks to my beta, LisaCA707. This story kept on begging me to be told. I'm not expecting it to do well because it's not a B/E story, but I'm posting it for who bought me almost a year ago for FGB.**

* * *

_Two years later..._

I opened my binder with this week's board meeting and I found a drawing by Alice of my stick figure self, a stick figure of her, and a circle figure for Emmett under a rainbow. It made me smile, but I knew I shouldn't. I saw two smaller stick figures in the background and the word "PORTLAND" written over them in childish scrawl. She always did this when drawing a picture of her family. I'd have to say something to Alice about making fun of Emmett's size when I got home, but I had no idea how I was going to keep a straight face. Emmett wasn't the chubbiest kid in his kindergarten class, but he wasn't thin by any means.

The meeting room was filling up, so I put the picture into the back of the folder to hang in my office cubicle later.

I hadn't wanted this job. Not at all. My bosses told me that my performance was lacking. How couldn't it be lacking? I knew why—I hated this.

My first thought when I went through the want-ads section of the paper and scanned the job sites was to go into interior design. I had been majoring in it in college. You didn't need a degree to decorate, but you needed insurance and start-up money. I had only gotten through two years of college before dropping out to get married. So, I ended up at an advertising company where I was treated like cattle, despite the constant _we CARE about our employees! _mantra that went through the emails. They cared about the bottom line- and that was profit. Carlisle had assisted me with money when I was scraping by, trying to get jobs wherever I could. He didn't let my children starve or be out on the streets. He never cheated on me, either. For that, I had to respect him, despite it all. We had the angriest, most violent, dirtiest sex in the week before he moved out- every night. For that, I still blushed and reminded myself he didn't love me anymore. He wouldn't have left me if he did.

I felt that familiar pain in my chest that I got when I got reminiscent over him. I hadn't had sex with another person since Carlisle left me three years ago. It was like a hole that I just couldn't fill.

I had to wipe my brain of those thoughts to participate in the conference.

"All right, team," Tony said, entering the room. "Have a seat, we have a lot to go over."

I opened my binder and pulled out the reports right as two dozen cupcakes were wheeled in. Damnit. They encouraged us to be pigs around here, yet went on and on about how image was everything and how important it was to be in shape for our clients. I rolled my eyes almost imperceptibly.

A green St. Paddy's Day cupcake was set in front of me.

I sighed and thought about all the animal lard in the icing and pushed it away. I didn't want to get cancer from the crap-filled preservatives.

* * *

As I made chili for the kids and the baby-sitter from down the street, Alice and Emmett were arguing over what to watch: she wanted to watch _Barbie and the Butterfly Fairylan_d and he wanted to watch _Spy Kids_.

The doorbell rang and Jessica Miller was waiting.

"Hi," I said, unlocking the screen door. "Come on in. I'm almost done with the chili and the kids are going to watch a movie."

"Hi, Mrs. Evanson," she said. She was a little on the chubby side, but cute. Alice and Emmett loved her. "Ali? Emmers?"

The kids came running towards us, almost knocking us down, screaming. They enveloped her in a hug. I pried them away.

"Okay, kids, who's in charge tonight?" I asked.

"Jessie," Emmett muttered.

"I expect you to be on your best behavior," I reminded them. "And listen to Jessie."

"Okay," they muttered. Alice had shouted _you're not the boss of me! _to a baby-sitter once before and since then, I had to make sure they knew who was in charge. My kids were a little too smart for their own good sometimes.

I made a bowl of chili for each of my children and set it down at the table. "Okay, Jessie, they may have chili and popsicles for dessert, but no liquids after seven and definitely not anything with caffeine. You can have whatever you want. My fridge is yours until I get home tonight, just as long as you don't leave a mess."

"Thanks," she said. She made a bowl for herself and sat down while Alice and Emmett argued over what to watch.

"Whoever cleans up the living room first can decide what to watch," I said. "AFTER dinner. And Jessie, I want you to put them in the bath by seven-thirty. Alice needs to be in bed by eight, Emmett by eight-thirty. If there's any back-talk, they can sit on the step in time-out, Alice for five minutes, Emmett for six – and they can't get up or it starts over."

At that moment, the doorbell rang. It was my date, Bill Humphrey, the brother of a friend from the office. "You want me to get that?" Jessie asked.

"No," I said. "I got it."

At the door was the man I had been fixed up with. He was just on this side of portly, was balding, and red-faced.

"Santa Claus!" Alice screamed behind me.

_Oh shit,_ I thought. "No, Alice, this is Mr. Bill," I said. I knew that Bill had kids from his first marriage and had them three days a week. He just chuckled, embarrassed, as I opened the door. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It's all right, I oughta hit the gym a little more, but I don't. My own fault."

"Bill, let me introduce you to my other child, Emmett," I said. Emmett waved at him. "And this my baby-sitter, Jessica."

"Hi, everyone! Maybe we should take everyone out sometime—my kids and yours. How does the beach sound?"

I couldn't go the beach without getting sick to my stomach. It was the worst break-up of my life that still dragging out with weekends in Portland. "No... Yes, that sounds nice." Bill was a family man. That was a great thing for a single mother like myself. "Emmett, Alice, can I get a kiss good-night?"

Emmett got up from the table and kissed me, and Alice bounced until I bent down to kiss her. "Bye! I love you and be good for Jessie."

"Love you!" Alice and Emmett chorused.

There were awkward pauses in the car as he drove to the restaurant. I should have been flirting, but it just felt wrong. And I knew why.

"So, you're divorced or widowed?" he asked.

What the hell kind of question was that? "Divorced," I said. I had only heard from Charles three times in the last year. He had gotten remarried and rarely got my child support or alimony to me. He was over two years behind at this point and I don't think he gave a shit. I didn't want to unload this on Bill, though. "You?"

"Divorced. It was amicable, though. I still talk to my ex-wife and we work things out. We're best friends."

_Well, good for fucking you, _I thought. _You're still buddies with your ex-wife. _"Well, that's great," I said instead. "Good to hear." _That you're a douchebag and she probably walked all over you and still does._

Dinner wasn't much better. He talked about his kids and how funny they were and how everything was just fucking perfect now that he was divorced. I held in everything that had happened to me. I figured nobody wanted to hear about it. My phone was achingly silent the whole time. I wished I had a girlfriend to call me and help bail me out at a time like this, but Jessie didn't even call.

I was ever so happy when he pulled up to my house. The lights were down, but he walked me to the door. "Well, it was fun," I said.

"I had a good time, too," he said. At that moment, he kissed me. It wasn't the best, most passionate kiss of my life. It was kind of gross. "I'll call you?"

Kissing me at the end of the first date wasn't so smart. "No." I was in a bitchy mood, that was for sure. He didn't turn me on like Carlisle did. I didn't know how I'd ever invite him in. "Good-night."

I opened the door and slipped inside, not looking back at his shocked expression as I shut it.

I leaned against the door, sighing. He was no Carlisle: somebody who didn't have to brag about what a great guy he was and how much he loved his kids. Carlisle has an easy-going manner and personality. He was damn sexy in his scrubs.

I heard his car start up and I knew he was gone.

The lights were on in the living room but the TV wasn't lit up.

In the living room, I saw Jessie sleeping on the couch with Alice in her arms. It was almost ten. At least Alice put on her footie pajamas. I figured Alice had used her charm to get out of going to bed. "Jessie?" I asked quietly.

Jessie's eyes opened. "Hey, Mrs. Evanson."

"Hi. Did she try to get out of going to bed?" I asked, picking up Alice, who moaned and stirred.

"Yeah," she said.

"I'll put her to bed and pay you," I said. "Be right back."

I carried Alice up stairs and tucked her into the bed. She could be a little shit sometimes. Jessica was gathering her books and putting away the dishes she had eaten out of in the dishwasher.

"Any problems tonight?" I asked.

"No, none other that Alice getting out of bed. How did your date go?"

I shrugged. "Been on better ones." I pulled out a twenty and a ten. "Here. Do you need a ride home?"

"No. I'm only a block away. Thanks, though."

"Good-night," I said, opening the door. "Be safe."

I swore off dating once I was alone in the house with two sleeping children. Yes, I hated my job but there was a club for people like me- it was called 'Everyone.' As long as I had my kids to pick up after work, I'd be just fine.

I checked my phone. I hadn't even heard the soft chime of a new text message arriving. I opened up the screen of my phone to see that it was from Carlisle's new number in Portland.

_I miss you. So does Edward._

I got a glass of boxed wine from the fridge and hit the send button.

"Hello?"

"Hey," I said. "What are you doing up this late, Dr. Cullen? Did our boy Eddie piss the bed again?"

He sighed. He was either tired or drunk. Edward was still having problems with bedwetting almost three years after he left me. He had plastic sheets, but it was on-going three times a week, at least. "No, not yet. I'm just waiting. Just got Edward down for the fourth time. He's looking for every excuse in the book to avoid going to bed. Please tell me Alice is doing this too."

"She is," I said. "The baby-sitter had to hold her to get her to sleep."

"You were out tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Doing what?"

"I was on a date."

"Aww, you've got somebody else's dick in your mouth."

"No sweetheart, nobody's dick has been in my mouth except yours."

"So, how goes the hooking business?"

I snorted. He teased me like this when he couldn't have me. I usually reminded him he did it to himself. "Not well."

"Why don't you come down to Portland and see your favorite client?" I could tell he had been drinking a little, he was so relaxed.

"Perv."

He laughed. "Edward misses you."

"I miss him."

I went to Portland with the kids once a month so they could see each other. Those visits had a secret agenda as well: Carlisle and I ended up fucking—like, dirty, nasty, paralyze-you-the-next-morning-in-shock-at-what-you-did-fucking. The first time, I was mad at him and went home the next day, but he texted me. And of course, I realized how stupid I was acting and had phone sex the next night. We had settled happily into friends with the occasional benefits. I knew this was not going to end well, yet I kept on going back _for the kids_. Even I called my own bullshit on this.

"So, what was he like?"

"He was... a good guy. Family man. He talked about his ex-wife like they got along. I think he lets her walk all over him. He called her his _best friend_."

"Danger Will Robinson."

He laughed at himself. I rolled my eyes. "I know, I know. Let me tell you about the rest of it. Awkward pauses. Long silences. And at the end of the night, he kissed me."

"Did you at least slip him the tongue?"

"Even worse. Bad kisser. He asked if he could call me and I said no."

"What did you say?"

"Just that. No."

"You're cold."

"I know. I slammed the door in his face."

He laughed. "Ah, damn."

"What are you drinking?"

"Eh, just a Shiraz from the liquor store down the street. You're right about boxed wine. I tell you, alcohol is the elixir of parenthood."

"Is he that bad?"

"Nah, not really. He just asks 'why' all the time. When I tell him to put away his toys he asks 'why?' And I tell him because I'm your dad, and he says 'why?' I don't want to explain where babies come from… yet. I was saving that for age eight or so."

"I'm not coming over until he's over it. I don't want Alice getting ideas."

He told me a few more drunken stories before I cut him off. "Baby, I gotta get to bed. Call me tomorrow?" I asked.

"Fine." He yawned. "Good night."

* * *

"Momma, I don't like this," Alice moaned. Her eyes were shiny with tears. "I don't wanna go to Dr. Patterson!"

"Me either!" Emmett complained. They needed physicals and their shots. I hated doing this to my kids, but I had to… if they wanted to go to the day camps for dance and soccer.

"Momma doesn't like going the doctor either, but it's something we all have to do to stay healthy," I said. "Being healthy is important. You want to go to soccer camp. And don't you want to play with the toys in here?" The waiting room had a TV and plenty of toys to play with. Emmett was the first to go to the race cars.

I tried to relax but I knew there was going to be much weeping and gnashing of teeth in a few minutes.

"Emmett and Alice Evanson?" the nurse asked.

"Right here," I said, standing up. I took Emmett's hand and picked up Alice. She was paling. The nurse weighed the kids and took their height and escorted us to a small examining room. Alice began to cry and Emmett was quiet and fidgety. "Everybody has to go to the doctor," I said. "It's all going to be all right."

Alice whimpered.

There was a knock on the door. "Hi," Dr. Patterson poked her head in the door and smiled at the kids.

"Hi," I replied.

"Alice, Emmett, do you remember me?"

Emmett nodded, but Alice was so scared she wouldn't nod.

"I'll make this quick," she promised.

"Everybody goes to the doctor," I promised my kids.

"Every year," Dr. Patterson added. "Mommy goes to the doctor too."

I blushed. Yeah, sure I did. The last time was when Carlisle was living with me and I went on birth control. Did going once a month to fuck an ER intern count for going to the doctor? "I do," I added.

She examined both my children and everything seemed fine. She ordered the shot for both of them and the nurse came in and give it to them. Emmett was the brave one, his lips quivering, squenching his eyes shut when the needle poked his arm, but didn't cry. My brave boy.

The exam was over and they kids were let out to get lollipops and stickers from the nurse.

"Emmett's a little overweight," she told me. "Can you just watch his caloric intake over the next six months and we'll see what happens?"

"Sure," I said.

"Diets are so difficult to introduce to a child. Especially that young. Alice is still petite for her age, but I don't think there's anything wrong with that. She's probably going to be a petite girl when she grows up. Just don't love them with food."

"I can do that."

"Esme, when was the last time you went to the doctor?" Dr. Patterson asked.

I closed my eyes and realized I needed to be honest. "A few years ago."

Her face dropped. "Esme, you know that's bad. You told your kids..."

"I know, I know," I said, not wanting to be a hypocrite. "I'll make an appointment once we leave."

"Look, we can set up an appointment for you for a physical; there's a general practioner in this same building. You do breast self-exams, don't you?"

"Yes, of course. Nothing to be worried about." I was healthy. I could run after my kids and I didn't get winded; we played together on weekends and I could still pick Emmett's heavy butt up.

"Gynecological health can be difficult to track unless you do the exam and pap smears, okay?"

I sighed. She was right. I needed to set a good example for my children. It was a little discomfort but nothing like giving birth. I could do this.

Since my doctor was in the same building as Dr. Patterson, I went by. I'd forget if I said I'd call. They scheduled me for a physical and a Pap smear.

I walked out the door with a crying Alice because she dropped her lollipop, promising to get her another one on the way home. Emmett offered her his own and it made me smile. My kids were great. The greatest thing in my whole life.

* * *

I was laying on my back two weeks later with my feet in stirrups displaying my cash and prizes to a doctor and his nurse. The speculum had been warmed but it still hurt. "Take note, she's a 3-0-1-3," he said. "Hold on, now, Esme. You can put the pillow over your head if you'd like."

I wanted to. The speculum clicked open a little more. I had to prove I was brave, just like my little Emmett, although he wasn't here. "Almost. Almost."

_Who invented male gynecologists, anyway?_

"Done."

I almost jumped off the table.

"I just need to do a bimanual exam," he said. "It might hurt, but I'll try to be quick." He slipped his fingers into me and pressed down on my lower stomach, feeling around. "Nothing abnormal," he noted to his nurse.

"Good, is it over?" I asked.

"Yes, you're fine. Do we need to talk about birth control?"

"No."

I sighed in relief and clamped my legs together, pulling the sheet over me. I couldn't say I disagreed with my kids, hating the doctor's office.

"We'll send you the results of your pap smear in the mail in a few weeks," he said. "Anything abnormal and we'll call you."

I sighed in relief as they left the room and started getting dressed.

I got in the car to get my kids from school. I laughed at myself for being so nervous about a pap smear. It was nothing like the pain of giving birth.

After I stopped for a cup of congratulatory coffee, I went to Alice's day care and checked her out. "How was your day, baby?" I asked as she ran into my arms.

"Is good!" Alice cried. "I made a card for you!"

"You did? Thank you!"

"It's in my cubby!" she ran to her cubby.

"How was she today?" I asked her teacher.

"She was good. She told me she was going to ask the Easter Bunny for a kitty," her teacher said.

"We'll see about that. No problems?"

"Well, she's a bit bossy, sometimes."

Tell me something I didn't know. "I'm working on that."

The teacher grinned. "She's learning," she said. "Sometimes, you just have to show her how to use that in a positive way, that's all. Maybe she'll be the first female president of the United States."

Alice ran up with her drawing. "Thank you! It's beautiful!" I said, although it just looked like stick figures and blobs of color. I saw _Portland_ scrawled in a corner, again. "Tell me about it."

"It's you! At the doctor's. All better!" she sang.

My cheeks turned red. "Thank you, it's very nice. Come on, we have to go pick up Emmett."

She insisted on saying good-bye to her best friends, hugging them.

At Emmett's school, they called him out and he got into the car, buckling himself in like a big boy. He started telling me about his day.

My phone dinged as I drove and the kids sang along with the radio.

I tried to get it, but it was in the bottom of my purse (of course) and I almost hit a road sign. I just decided it wasn't that important.

We got home and I finally checked my phone as I got out the whole-wheat spaghetti to boil. The organic red sauce was in the jar in the fridge: that could be microwaved.

When I finally remembered my phone in my purse, I found that Carlisle was texting me.

A part of me still loved him and wanted him back, but it was just too messy. His job and his son obviously came before me and it was a sore subject. But, anyways, I had seen him several times since he left and I questioned how much self respect I actually had. Call it pride, call it being dumb. I just couldn't do it.

I called him back.

"So, what did Edward do this time?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Yes, because it's so melodic."

"What'd you do today?"

"Got a pap smear."

He laughed. "Got a strep test?"

"No, a Pap smear," I said, getting out tomato sauce, wondering how he had misunderstood.

"We call it a strep test on the other end!" He continued to crack himself up and I rolled my eyes although he couldn't see me.

I finally laughed. "You're disgusting. How much have you had to drink already?"

"One beer, that's it."

"Why is it every time I talk to you, you're drinking? I'm calling DCS Portland."

"One time bitch, and you're not going to have a fuck buddy anymore."

"What am I going to do? Date Bill whats-his-face?"

"Yeah, you do that."

* * *

Life was always hectic. Picking up kids and running errands, multi-tasking- that all fell under "normal" for me. I was looking forward to the weekend when the kids could go to the park on Saturday and we'd play on the playground and have sandwiches. Emmett had a birthday party on Sunday afternoon he had been invited to which I had to pick out a present for him to give. And then, next weekend, we were taking a trip to Portland for Mommy to have 'time' with Daddy and for them to see Edward. Unfortunately, Benadryl made my children even more hyper than they already were, so it was useless on road trips.

I checked the mail and drove into the garage with Alice and Emmett throwing things at each other in their car seats and screaming "You're a fartknocker!" and "No, _you're_ a fartknocker!" I had to do damage control and stop them from calling names. I had long since accepted the term "fart" as a normal part of acceptable lexicon for children. I had dinner to make and had to get the present for the girl from Emmett's class wrapped and the bedrooms needed vacuuming.

The mail contained a bill, another bill, a letter from my mother (she had never mastered email), and a strange letter with non-see-through lining.

I opened each of them while ordering pizza. Friday night was always pizza night because at the end of the week I liked to have that chore off the table to start the weekend. Emmett and Alice were screaming and giggling in the living room and the TV was already on. They couldn't remember that name-calling wasn't okay, but they could figure out the TV and DVD player before either of them even started reading. I opened the one from some address I didn't recognize while putting in the pizza order.

_ESME EVANSON,_

_Your Pap smear has been deemed_

_Normal XAbnormal._

I read it again. Abnormal? Me? I finished the pizza order and went to the bathroom. The kids were screaming in the living room, probably kung-fu fighting, but I didn't care. I dialed my gynecologist's office and waited.

"University Gynecology."

"Yes, may I speak to Dr. Katz?"

"He's out of the office for the weekend, can I take a message?"

Oh my God. Of course, I had to get terrible news today, before the weekend even started but couldn't get in touch with him. "This is Esme Evanson," I said. "My Pap smear came back abnormal and I need to speak with him."

She receptionist sounded miffed. "He's not available this weekend, he'll get back to you on Monday morning. I can make an appointment."

I sighed. Goddamnit. "Fine, make an appointment."

When she hung up after creating my appointment, I called Carlisle.

"Esme? You're calling me before I had my first beer of the night." He laughed at himself. I wasn't in the mood to fuck around over the phone.

"Carlisle, I got the results of my Pap smear back a few minutes ago. It said it was abnormal."

He took a moment to pause, to process. "It's all right. It doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"It means a lot to me!"

"Stay calm. It's not the end of the world. Women get abnormal on their Pap smears all the time. It doesn't always mean it's life-threatening."

"I got it today- Friday. I can't see the doctor until Monday. And everybody at that office thinks I'm retarded or something for calling them."

"Don't let them treat you like that! There's nothing wrong with panicking over something like this! It's a natural reaction!"

"Gee, what else am I going to do?"

"Esme, it was just a couple of cells. The doctor's probably going to do another Pap smear on you and a few other tests and that'll be it. They'll probably want to test you every three months or so. That's what we did in our medical school rotations."

I sighed. "What else?"

"I don't know, I'm not your doctor, I haven't seen the results. Like I said, it could be a lot of things, not necessarily cancer."

I sighed. "Fine."

"Don't take that tone with me!"

"Aren't you supposed to use that line on Edward when he turns twelve or something?"

"Okay, I'll level with you. I'll try to get in touch with the OB/GYN here so he can call you back and calm you down."

The doorbell rang. "I gotta go."

"Take care. I'll see you soon."

It was the pizza guy. I paid him and set it out for the kids. Cleaning and present-wrapping could wait. I took a cue from Carlisle and poured a glass of wine while the kids got their dirty, unwashed hands into the pizza. I didn't really care for once.

All I could think about was what would happen to Emmett and Alice if I wasn't there. I didn't want my slap-happy alcoholic mother raising them. And I didn't want them delivered to my ex-husband who'd probably surrender them to Child Services since he cared that little. Whatever was going on inside my body, I needed to make sure my children were going to be raised in a safe, secure, happy home where they'd be loved. My first thoughts were towards my children. And I knew they wouldn't be on anything else.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N- Special thanks to my beta, LisaCA707, the best beta EVAR! This story kept on begging me to be told. I'm not expecting it to do well because it's not a B/E story, but I'm posting it for who bought me almost a year ago for FGB.**

* * *

I was back in the stirrups again, waiting to see what the doctor thought was wrong with me. "We're going to see this as soon as possible, probably before you get a response in the mail this time. It could be fibroid tumors we have to keep an eye on. Or it could be early lesions. I'm glad we caught this, Esme. This is why you need to go through Pap smears every year and not go so long without."

I nodded, feeling the speculum click open.

"What I can see looks all right," he said. "But there's a lot I can't see."

I could feel the slight swabbing he was doing. I closed my eyes and thought about Emmett and Alice. I thought about them being alone in this cruel world. Suddenly letting this strange man look at the most private part of myself didn't seem so terrifying with that thought.

"This is going to be just fine," he said. "I see a lot of women with abnormal Pap smears every week. And most of the time, it's just a warning."

He took out the speculum. I sighed in relief and closed my legs.

"We'll let you know if there's anything strange going on."

That didn't calm me a hundred percent.

As I pulled into my parking spot, I had to remind myself that it could be just a warning to start getting Pap smears more often. Yeah. It wasn't cancer.

I was getting myself worked up before actually finding out what it really was. That did no good.

In my office, Tony was waiting. The same Tony who had made passes at me was waiting in my office. I took a deep breath to keep from kicking an extra asshole in him.

"Hello, Esme," he said.

I didn't need this shit right now. "Can I do something for you?" I asked. I wasn't going to ignore his sexual advances this time.

"Did you even realize how much sick leave you've taken in the last three months?"

Goddamnit. "Yes Tony, I know." It was called being a mother. Emmett had brought home the flu and then Alice caught it right as he was getting better. And then I got it and puked for four days straight. And of course, they hadn't allowed me vacation or appointment time to go visit the doctor today, so I had to take sick leave. Working mother my ass. They didn't know the meaning of that phrase.

"I'm getting a lot of irritation and disrespect from you."

"Oh really?" I asked. "Really? I have two children to take care of outside of here without a husband or boyfriend; kids who pick up germs and viruses from the other children in the daycare I have to send them to so I can work this job and I got some bad news from my own doctor today and you're getting all over my ass about taking time off! Sorry to be irritable, but I need some time away from here to let my doctor do an exam because I might have cancer. Is that okay with you?"

He looked slightly stunned. "Well, uh... there's always Family Medical Leave and the EAP Helpline."

Oh no. He was not throwing this shit at me right now. I hated this job and I hated how being sick had to relegate you to "special treatment." Carlisle had joked with me that FML didn't mean Family Medical Leave, it meant Fuck My Life. And that was about what I was dealing with.

"Thank you. Tony," I over-pronounced. God, where were these angry emotions coming from? "Can I just please get to work, now?"

"Sure." He backed out of the room. I shut the door and sat down. I wanted to just go to my babies and just love them and pretend this and work were not happening.

* * *

Three days later, I got a call from Dr. Katz. "Esme, this doesn't look good."

I couldn't breathe.

* * *

I was in a daze until Carlisle called me that night.

"What happened?" he asked.

I hadn't actually said it aloud, yet. "They said it's cervical cancer."

The words brought me to tears. This couldn't be happening. Not cancer. Not in the middle of my life when I had three children to be a mother to.

We were silent for a few minutes. "Esme, do you need me to come up to Seattle?" he finally asked.

"No. I haven't even seen the oncologist yet. I don't even know how they're going to treat this."

"There are a lot of options-"

"I'm going to lose my ability to have kids. I'm sure of it."

"You don't know that, yet. Besides, why would you want another Emmett? He was so huge you had to have an emergency C-section. And you yourself call Alice a little shit sometimes."

"Never to her face—and she is a little shit! But I love being a mom."

"You told me you were done having kids."

"Yes, while you were with me. Now, you're not. I just can't... there's no way I can lose my ability to have children! I'm not thirty . . . yet. I can't go into menopause from a hysterectomy!"

"There's a chance they won't take your ovaries, all right?"

"I'm just too young for this shit!" The doctor had told me cervical cancer occurred in women of all ages without warning. I sighed and scooted back in my chair. "I don't know how work is going to handle this. They got on my back about taking time off to care for my sick children already because I can't work from home. I don't know what I'm going to do when I'm nauseated and losing my hair."

"Talk to your oncologist about getting some Family Medical Leave and short-term disability filed if you're going to go through chemo and radiation. They can't fire a sick employee, at least not legally. That's discrimination."

I sighed. "I know, but they'll weasel around it. I told my boss off this morning."

"Esme," he said, sounding disappointed.

"I get the diagnosis this morning and I go straight to work, where he's waiting in my office to lecture me. I fucking hate office work."

"I know you do. But you've got medical benefits for your kids through it, don't you?"

"My kids... Carlisle, I don't know what I'm going to do! If I die, the first people they're going to consider for custody will be my ex-husband and my mother! That can't happen."

"I'm not going to let that happen. Esme, just keep calm. You haven't gotten your survival percentage yet. I would never let Charles or your mother get custody of Alice and Emmett. Ever. There's enough that Charles' done that no judge in the country would allow him to keep your children. Your mother: just put her on the stand."

I sighed. "Carlisle, you can't even take care of Edward without a nanny."

"I'd pass up a few promotions at work to keep them safe. All of them. But, we're getting ahead of ourselves. You haven't even discussed your treatment options yet, have you?"

"No. But I know it's going to be awful . . . chemo and radiation and all that crap-"

"The worst thing you can do is panic right now."

I sighed. "Fine."

"Keep your mind off of it by staying busy. That's the best I can tell you right now. And maybe to go back to church."

"You're telling me to go back to church?"

"Yes. Spiritual warfare against a disease is a powerful component of survival."

* * *

I took the morning off on Friday to see my surgical oncologist, Dr. Barry, who ordered a few more tests. I did most of them during the next week, had an MRI and MRA on my pelvis. I spent most of my spare time looking up cervical cancer statistics and researching the treatments. If this was indeed malignant, I was probably going to have to go through radiation and chemo and I'd loose my ability to have children again. My hair would fall out, I'd be nauseated all the time, and vomiting all day. I didn't know how I was going to work if all that happened. A large part of the advertising business was looking nice. I swore I'd never wear a wig, but a headscarf. And headscarves were against company dress code at work unless I released my medical records to the HR department and my doctor filled out a form as to why a headscarf would help my work. My private life—like when I was on birth control and when I wasn't, what was going on with my vagina in general—would be open to my boss. It all seemed so degrading to me. And I felt sorry for any Muslim woman who wore a burka and had to have a daytime job at a company that didn't put up with this. I felt discriminated against. Once I lost my hair everyone at work would know what was going on. I didn't know how I was going to handle picking up my children from kindergarten and day care when I'd be too sick to drive or going to chemo treatments.

Dr Barry called me almost immediately after the last of the tests were done at the end of the week.

I knew that it was not good. I felt nauseated simply thinking about it. The worst part was that my body was turning against me. Carlisle sent me text messages and I tried to reply to them, but I was having so many feelings that it took me more that 140 characters to explain it and texting felt useless. I wondered if he'd really stick by me when I got sick.

Dr. Barry's expression was somber and I knew immediately that it was not good. "I'm sorry, Esme. It's stage 1 lesions."

The first thing I thought of was not myself, but my kids. How would they handle this? I couldn't just leave them to fend for themselves against the world at this age. The very thought made me burst into tears.

"It's okay to cry," she said. "Do you understand the stages?"

"I know stage 1 is early."

"Yes, and stage 4 is the worst. This looks like a semi-aggressive cancer. It's progressing pretty quickly, so we need to act quickly too before it expands beyond your cervix. It's in stage IA2, not visible, that's why your doctor didn't see anything out of sorts."

"Am I going to lose my ability to have children?" I asked.

"We have a hard time knowing," she said. "You might need a partial hysterectomy and removal of part of your vagina if initial treatment doesn't work. We might just need to do a cervicectomy, where we remove your cervix but it will preserve your fertility."

Her words made me burst into fresh, hysterical tears. No. I could not lose my ability to have a baby, but I was losing part of my vagina? That was horrible, horrible news. I didn't know that part of my vagina would be removed if I had to have a hysterectomy. What would I have to offer a man who was looking to start a family then? I'd be limited in even offering him sex. Those words were like part of a penis being cut off.

"Esme, this isn't the end. You're not terminally ill. And there are support groups for women like you. My front desk people can recommend them for you." I nodded, although she couldn't hear it over the phone. "And my office fills out short-term disability and Family Medical Leave all the time. Talk to your HR department about it and bring in the paperwork. This is no time to have to worry about your career."

"Sure. I'll do that."

We hung up and I went to the playroom where Alice and Emmett were building a small fort out of chairs and blankets. "Hi, Mommy!" Alice cried. "We're making a fart." I think she knew it was fort, but it tickled her to death to say the word fart instead. I wasn't sure, but I just chalked it up to a speech impediment she was going to outgrow. I felt my tears starting again. I wanted to see her say fort one day. I wanted to see her grow up and have a better childhood than I had had. I wanted to see her as an adult, what she'd turn out to be: a mommy, a career woman, a butch biker lesbian with tattoos, or a professional women's soccer player, or a ballerina.

"May I play in your fort?" I asked, sitting down on the floor.

"Yes, Momma, you can," Emmett said. I helped them with draping the blanket over the chairs before climbing under it.

I loved my children so much. I wasn't sure if Carlisle could be counted on, though. I had to survive this. Even if I didn't have the ability to have children. As long as it was the three of us, we'd be okay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N- Special thanks to my beta, LisaCA707, the best beta EVAR! This story kept on begging me to be told. I'm not expecting it to do well because it's not a B/E story, but I'm posting it for who bought me almost a year ago for FGB.**

* * *

"So, it's really cervical cancer?"

I was past the crying phase. "Yeah. Looks like it."

"Esme," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," I said. "God's doing this for a reason."

He sighed. "You know I love you, despite... despite everything. No amount of baldness or puking or infertility is going to change that."

I started to melt at his words at first. But, I had become a changed, angry woman when he left Seattle for Portland. He dumped me in the middle of the night, tearing apart our make-shift family. The break-up was more painful than even Charles. I honestly thought he was the man in my life. "Goddamnit, Carlisle!" I cried. "How dare you pull this shit on me! Especially right now! Who do you think you are? I'm not a piece of ass you can tap at any time!"

"Excuse me for being sympathetic," he snarled back. "I was trying to be a friend, not get in your pants."

I realized how shitty I was being to him and I briefly felt the deep sting of humiliation for hurting a friend—or lover—or whatever he was to me. "I'm sorry."

"I've already been in there," he said softly. "And it was quite nice, too. I won't think you're any less sexy if you can't have kids."

"It's not just about having more babies," I said. "It's about being unable to be there for Alice and Emmett. And work. And money."

"Esme, you know that I'll always lend you money if you're in dire straights."

He had already lent me money in the first few months between his move to Portland and my looking for a job, my savings had quickly depleted and he had been there. I hated being in debt to him. "I would never accept another cent from you. The worst loans in the world are between friends."

"Good friends wouldn't expect it back."

I felt even more angry with myself for snapping at him earlier. I felt like I'd be losing a part of myself if I didn't have the ability to give birth anymore. And in a sense, even though Carlisle didn't understand it fully and never could; I felt like it was something he'd never understand unless he lost his balls. I didn't want him to feel like I was keeping him around for his money. My thoughts were so crazy that I didn't even know myself anymore. It reminded me of myself when he dumped me and we were still living in the same house.

"I still love you," I said tearfully. "Always have."

"I always will, too."

* * *

I expected some sense of support from the women in my cervical cancer support group. To make friends with a woman who understood what worried me.

Not surprisingly, none of the women with children had an absentee baby daddy and psycho parents that weren't fit to parent a pet rock. They were secure that even if they died, their children would be raised well. I was told "it's in God's hands, Esme," when I told the group about my situation. That just made me even more upset. It was like they were telling me not to care.

I came home that Friday afternoon feeling dejected and horrified. The stories some of these women told were like omens of what was to come for me.

The phone rang as I drove to my condo where Jessica was watching my kids. I picked up my phone and answered, not even looking at the caller ID.

"Hey." I recognized Carlisle's voice.

"Hi."

"How'd the support group go?"

"Not as comforting as I would have thought. I'm a little down about it right now."

"When's the treatment starting?"

"I'm scheduled for a trachelectomy tomorrow morning and I start chemo Monday, no radiation."

"Tomorrow?" he cried.

"Yes, the surgeon squeezed me in tomorrow afternoon."

"Well... A trachelectomy is a good thing. You'll still be able to have kids if the chemo goes well. Do you need me to be there?"

"Carlisle, no. My kids are going to stay with their babysitter's family for the weekend." It's times like these that you needed another person around to help, but I was too proud to ask Carlisle after all he had done for me. I had spoken briefly to Evan, telling him I had cancer. He said he'd call me back, but never got around to it. I knew he'd be no help at all. I was determined not to cling to Carlisle and take advantage of him. I was a strong woman. I'd get through this without him. Just like I had the day after he had gotten into his car and left with Edward for Portland and we had all cried together in the living room. I got up the next morning and decided I wasn't going to sit on my ass. I'd persevere. I'd be an inspiration to my children for my independence—again.

"Esme, don't be an idiot. It's times like these you need someone to help pick up the slack."

"You're in the middle of your internship. Don't be an idiot, Carlisle."

"Who else do you have?"

I had a few friends from around the neighborhood, but that was it. I didn't have any friends at work because everybody there knew I was miserable and had told my boss off, which made me a sinking ship. Maybe Carlisle was right. I needed some assistance somewhere. It was just my pride that prevented me from asking him for help. "I'm not even going to answer that question," I said. "I'm just going to try to scrape by. I gotta get dinner ready and then get the kiddos to bed. I'll talk to you later."

"All right."

* * *

"Yuck, I hate pizza," Emmett said. I almost heard an Angelic Hallelujah Chorus, but I knew exactly why he was saying that. We had eaten nothing but pizza since my diagnosis.

Normally, I'd force him to eat whatever I made, despite his size, since he was a picky eater. And I knew why he hated pizza now: we'd eaten it too often. Alice hadn't even touched her slice.

"Me too, Mommy," Alice said. "Blech!"

"I'm sorry, kids," I sighed. "Let's go to the store and get real food."

"It's so late!" Emmett whined.

My kids were getting whiny with my lack of parenting lately. I realized something awful: I was being a bad parent right now. Cancer or not, I needed to get them back on track to being respectful. They were getting away with murder around here. I even had them sleeping in my bed.

"Let's see what we have in here," I said, opening the fridge. There was a fungus-covered plastic basket of strawberries and a gallon of yellow milk. I curved my lip up. The freezer mostly yielded frozen foods covered with frostbite. The kids never touched Chinese or Thai and Italian was too much like pizza. "Okay, we're going to the store."

Emmett whined and Alice cried as I packed them into the car. It was 7:30 when we got there and Emmett kept on saying "Mommy, I want that!" when we passed by a particularly delectable treat. I tried to never go grocery shopping with my kids. Normally, I was a woman of patience with my kids, but...

When we got home, I made a late dinner of grilled chicken and corn, since I usually had to bribe my children with dessert to get them to eat green vegetables. They were tired and hungry when I finally served them. Once they had dinner, I put them in the bathtub while they complained and cried. Tomorrow was going to be a long day this was only the start of it. I'd be dropping the kids off at Jessica's house for her mother to watch them at about eight and then checking myself into the hospital.

Once I got them into bed, they cried and screamed about it. I waited outside their bedroom doors until they stopped getting out of bed. Finally. Some me time.

In the kitchen, I got out the ice cream. I wasn't supposed to eat after midnight—might as well eat until the clock struck twelve. Right as I had devoured half the carton, the doorbell rang.

Grumbling about who it could be, I got up and checked out the peep hole to see Carlisle standing there with a sleeping child in his arms. I threw the door open.

"Carlisle!" I cried. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Watch your language in front of the kid. No hello?"

I blushed. "I'm sorry." I hugged him and kissed Edward on the head. "How are you?"

"Super, just super. Come on, let's get this one in bed."

We set up the blow-up air mattress in the living room and put Edward down, turning off the TV. Edward whined a little and kicked. He was bigger than the last time I'd seen him two months ago and I kicked myself for not being there for him.

That left only the kitchen or bedroom to sit down and relax in. Any TV would wake the kids up. And to be alone 'talking' with Carlisle in a bedroom would lead to one thing only, one thing I wasn't supposed to do to my vagina right before surgery. "Come on, I was just eating everything in the kitchen before midnight," I said, sitting down at the table. "What on earth possessed you to drive five hours with a small child in the car to Seattle?"

"You know why I came here," he said.

"Carlisle, aren't you having to take off from work?"

"Yeah, but this is what personal days are for."

"You know we can't have sex."

"I know. Hey! What the hell is this?" he picked up a produce sack that had a slimy, black object in it that vaguely resembled a head of Romaine lettuce.

"Oops," I said. "I haven't exactly been cooking. Just look at the stack of pizza boxes."

"You need me a lot more than you think."

"Yes, my children want to live off of scrambled eggs and hot dogs for however long it takes me to recover."

"Hey, I've picked up a few skills in the past two years," he said, picking up the garbage can to toss the expired contents of the fridge. "Oh, holy shit! This looks like cottage cheese! Or even worse, feta!" He held up the expired jug of milk and swirled it around. He went to dump it in the sink, but it smelled so horrible, we both gagged. "You know you can depend on me right now."

"I know. I just... Carlisle, you can't be here for me the whole time I'm going through chemo."

"We'll talk to your doc about your chemo being transferred down to Portland and you can stay with me. Edward's nanny already said she doesn't mind taking on Alice and Emmett."

"Carlisle..." I wanted to yell no way to him, but I knew I couldn't. Yes, he was pushing me around, but to have him as backup was secretly what I'd wanted all along. I didn't like being pushed around. Yes, I liked sex a little rough, I think that had everything to do with Evan. "You amaze me."

"I try."

* * *

I woke up after surgery with the worst pain ever in my pelvis. Part of my reproductive system had been yanked out. I groaned in pain. And I was alone.

"Ms. Evenson?" the nurse asked.

"Yes?" I asked as she materialized out of nowhere.

"How are you feeling?"

"It hurts," I muttered.

She took my temperature and fiddled with the machines. "Everything looks good. I'm going to start you on a pain drip."

She hooked up my IV and I drifted into a blissful sleep.

I woke up later and realized there were boots on my feet that were inflating slightly, somehow, and then deflating. "Hi."

"Carlisle?"

He appeared from the shadows. "I came up to check on you. How are you?"

The pain was more discomfort than anything. "It hurt really bad earlier. Can't feel it now."

"The pain medication is kicking in," he said. I felt him pick up my hand.

"How are the kids?"

"They were pretty good last night. They missed you."

"I miss them," I said, thinking of Alice climbing the bookshelf and Emmett and Edward making mud pies in the backyard.

"I cooked." He said with pride written all over his face.

"No you didn't!" I said in disbelief.

"Yeah, I did. Pork loin and apple sauce with green beans."

"Have you had to call the ER for food poisoning yet?" I teased.

"Have a little faith in me. I'll show you I can cook now—once you come home."

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. "I look horrible," I muttered.

He brushed my hair back of my face. "You look just fine."

"It's all downhill from here," I muttered. I was going to enjoy my hair as long as I could before the chemo claimed it. "I'm going to be so ugly bald. I bet I have a bumpy head. Or a birthmark I've never seen before."

"I bet you'll be really beautiful bald."

"Oh shut up, my eyelashes and eyebrows are going to fall out. Of course, there are fake eyelashes and brow pencils."

"Just embrace it. You know I won't let you go bald alone."

"Carlisle, you're better than any support group."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N- Special thanks to my beta, LisaCA707, the best beta EVAR! This story kept on begging me to be told. I'm not expecting it to do well because it's not a B/E story, but I'm posting it for who bought me almost a year ago for FGB.**

* * *

After my surgery, I decided that I was going to take my chemo treatments in Portland and I'd come up to Seattle once a week to let Dr. Barry examine me. I didn't quite care if my disability didn't get approved and I got fired from work at this point. There were other jobs out there—jobs with bosses who didn't pretend to squeeze my ass cheeks when I walked out of his office or wink at me when I had been bent over to pick up something he dropped because he was checking out my ass.

The day I got home from the hospital, Carlisle had cleaned the house immaculately. He'd stocked the fridge and pantry, bathed the kids, and done the laundry. I was so relieved to have these seemingly simple chores done. But the truth was, they weren't simple for someone who'd just had surgery and I felt awed by his thoughtfulness. He'd even gone as far as packing some of the kid's clothes and favorite books and toys to take to Portland with us!

We took a flight to Portland a few days later, since being on the road was going to be worse on me. I had never flown anywhere with my kids, but Carlisle took care of it while a flight attendant pushed me in a wheelchair to my gate. A very nice teenager entertained the kids with baby-sitting games like Telephone while I conked out. In Portland, a friend of Carlisle's drove up to pick us up. I slept through most of the trip; I hardly remembered any of it.

There were plenty of little kid toys in Edward's room and lots of kids in the neighborhood that wanted to play with all three of them. Carlisle insisted the other parents in the neighborhood were great. Carlisle set me up in his bedroom and gave me a pill for my pain, which put me back in no-man's land again.

When I started chemo the next day, Carlisle took me himself—arranging for a babysitter to watch our kids.

On TV and the movies, they always showed the chemo patients sitting in a room together in recliners, hooked up to their intravenous meds with curtains separating them. That much was true, but most of the people had on mittens and "wine cooler" shoes padding their feet to protect their toenails. The room was freezing cold and they all had blankets covering them.

"This way, Ms. Evenson," the nurse said. I was hooked up to an IV after tons of preliminary things like taking my blood pressure and hemoglobin count. The black lady sitting beside me was, I think, in her thirties. She just smiled at me.

"Welcome to the refrigerator," she said. "What's your poison?"

"My poison?" I asked as a blanket was draped over me.

"What kind of cancer do you have?"

"Cervical. I just had a trachelectomy. You?"

"Breast cancer. These," she said, patting her breasts. "Are toilet paper."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Is this your first time to have the big C?"

"Yeah," I said. "Have you had it before?"

"Yeah. Second time," she smiled. "I'm gonna keep taking the chemo until I can't take anymore, though."

"What stage are you in?"

"Stage three," she said. I gasped. "It sounds bad, but I have to fight. The Lord didn't make me to be a quitter." I was hoped she wasn't a religious nut job. "I want to see all my grandbabies get their high school diplomas. And then, their bachelor's."

"You have grandchildren?" I asked, surprised. Her faces wasn't lined.

"I guess I aged well," she said. "That and I got a good wig!" She chuckled.

I smiled. "I've got kids."

"You do?"

"Yeah. My oldest is six, the younger two are four."

"Twins?"

"Well… not really. Sort of."

"Long story," Carlisle said, appearing beside me with a folding chair.

"I've got another hour, baby," she said. "Tell me about it."

Carlisle and I relegated our story about how we had both gotten divorced from our respective exes before Edward and Alice were born. And Carlisle talked about how Edward needed breast milk to stop his tummy troubles. "I think he would have died," Carlisle said, his face distorting in pain as he re-lived those difficult times. "She stepped in and offered to feed him and he became a different baby."

"Everybody needs a mama," she said.

"I'm sorry, I don't know you name," I said, realizing how much she had listened to us.

"Donna Holly," she said, then sighed. "So, Ms. Evenson, what's yours?"

"Esme," I said. "And this is Carlisle."

"Nice to meet you," Carlisle said.

The nurse came up and got her IV out. "Well, Ms. Holly, you have a good rest of the day before the worst part kicks in."

Donna got up and I could see, once the blanket was off, how fake her breasts looked. "I'll see you kids later," she said.

"'Bye," Carlisle and I said as she left.

* * *

It wasn't long before the nausea set in. They said that I wouldn't feel nauseated until tomorrow, but I felt it that night when I got home. Anti-emetics had been prescribed, but they didn't do much for me. I couldn't eat dinner when Carlisle made a ravioli dish for the kids and me. What I did eat ended up coming right back up as the nausea intensified later that night.

Everyone said that the chemo was going to do a number on me and make me nauseated. I spent most of the night puking in the bathroom. Carlisle held my hair back as I knelt in front of the toilet.

"I can't believe it's happening this fast."

"Of course it is," he said. "Everybody responds differently to chemo. It's poison, you have to admit."

He got out a wet washrag and sponged off my face. I tried to spend some time with the kids as they played in the living room. I had to enroll Emmett in the local school because he was too old not to be schooled. And Carlisle had checked to make sure there was room at the Montessori Preschool that Edward went to. And dance. Alice loved to dance and Emmett needed to play t-ball, so I needed to get them signed up for both. The busier I kept them, the more time I could spend be a nauseated, miserable, shedding mess. I made plans for tomorrow to get the kids up early and to enroll them in everything. I needed some time to rest a little every day. I was so glad I wasn't going to be going to work and trying to manage this treatment. I made a list for myself as I got under the covers and left it by the bed.

That list went straight out the window the next morning. Carlisle got up and went to work and I was stuck with three kids, the nausea so intense I could hardly move. I saw Alice squatting and peeing in the yard to show off, no doubt because Edward and Emmett had done it earlier. There was no energy to get up and tell her to stop and come inside to use the potty. I thanked God when a mixed race girl walked in.

"Brandi!" Edward cried, running up and hugging her.

"Hi, I'm Edward's nanny, Brandi. Could you use some help?" she asked. Carlisle had told me about her.

"Oh thank God!" I cried. "I love you!"

"Why don't I take the kids to the playground across the street?" she asked.

"That sounds good," I said. "But they need to be back by twelve for lunch and a nap."

"Can do," she said. She introduced herself to my kids and they compliantly got into her dented SUV and she left. I went back to bed, but didn't wake up again until almost twelve-thirty when I heard the kids in Carlisle's kitchen. Brandi was serving them sandwiches.

"Hi," I said, getting up, trying to be polite. Brandi was making sandwiches and chips for the kids.

"I thought I'd take care of making the kids lunch because you were so out of it," she said. "I thought you could use the rest."

"Thanks."

"Would you like something to eat?"

"Sure," I said. She made a ham and cheese sandwich for me and I ate a few bites of it. Surprisingly, it stayed down and I started to feel better.

Emmett and Edward wanted to play with the cars and apparently Alice wasn't included. "Momma," she cried, running to me. "Edward and Emmett won't let me play!"

"Boys," I said. "Why aren't you letting Alice play with you?"

"These aren't girl toys!" Emmett cried, holding up toy cars.

"She wants to play, so those can be girl toys," I growled. "Let her play."

After a few minutes, Alice started screaming and crying again. My nerves were already shot from the chemo. I was not in a peace-making mood. "They're driving their cars away from me!" she sobbed. "Momma!"

I got a little irritated. Emmett and Edward knew she wanted to be one of the boys and play with them. At that point, I grabbed the car out of Alice's hand and then took them away from Edward and Emmett. A lot of screaming ensued. "I don't care, kids. Find something else that all of you can play with," I snapped. "Or we're all going on to the naughty chair."

They calmed down and started playing. Once she finished cleaning up the kitchen, Brandi played Barbies with Alice and she stopped her sniffling. I don't know where my irritability came from.

Once Carlisle got home, I started to feel worse about taking the toy cars away. Guilty, in fact. I loved my kids. I'd never hurt them and just then, I took their toys away for not getting along with each other.

"It gets worse," Carlisle promised me. "Oh, and I got you something." He held up a plastic package. It had a pair of clippers in it. "For when the time comes."

"Not tonight," I said. "I'm not going to need it until my hair start falling out in clumps and I'm shedding like a dog."

"All right," he said, kissing me on the cheek. "I'll keep them in the bathroom until then."

"Thanks."

I felt good enough to get the kids in the bathtub and their pajamas with Carlisle's help. A friend of his came with the car we had left behind in Seattle later that night and we thanked him with dinner and a beer.

"Is it always going to be this awful?" I asked as Carlisle tucked me into bed. "I don't think I'm going to be able to stand chemo."

"You'll get through it. For your children. And we'll get a chance to start over."

"We better."

* * *

As Carlisle came out with fajitas on the plate. "Here you are, m'lady," he said, setting it down in front of me. "_Fajitas a la Carlisle_."

"Thank you," I said, picking at it. "I love you!"

"I love you, too."

It made me stop. I had been joking when I shouted _I love you_! He hadn't been. I felt a little guilty. A little disgusting for all the ways I had been acting today. I had been ungrateful, mean and thinking only of myself and my sickness. The world kept on turning while I was sick.

He sat down beside me and pick up one. "Carlisle, I need to talk to you," I said. "I want you to adopt my children."

"Let's not think like that," Carlisle said.

"What? Why?"

"I don't want you thinking about what happens to them after you die. Put it in your Will and it will just work out."

"No," I said. "I want you to do it, now. Wills are just suggestions, not laws. You don't always get what the law says is right unless you're legally their parent. While I'm alive— let's do this."

"Esme, I know you're worried you're not going to survive, but you're going to be fine—"

"Is it about time? I see you've got nannies. I've got life insurance and a 401K I'll leave behind. You don't have to put my kids through college."

"It's not about money. You know I love your kids as much as Edward. I'd do anything for them."

"Do you understand why I'm so scared about them being raised by someone that doesn't love them, then?"

"Of course."

"I don't want their natural father getting to them. Ever. I'd rather you raise them, even if you're never around except a few hours on the weekends and have nannies raising them. And remarry another woman, and as long as she doesn't mistreat them or treat them like red-headed step-children."

"All right," he said. "If things start going downhill, we can talk about it. But I don't want you feeling like you're attached to me forever when this is over."

"So the answer is no?"

"For now. I think it would make you all right with death to know that your kids are mine, too. I don't want you giving up."

"It doesn't!" He could be pushy, I could push back. "But, we're going to get the will drawn up tomorrow."

"Fine. We'll do that. It doesn't mean you're giving up. Promise you won't."

"I won't."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer- I am not Stephenie Meyer or Bob Dylan. Bob Dylan wrote the song '_Baby Please Stop Cryin' _in 1978, of which, I got the title from the lyrics.**

**A/N- this is for Ms. Kathy's Fandom Gives Back author auction request. Yes, I finally got around to it. The muse just wasn't talking to me until now. I just needed Sweet Little Bullet to give me some inspiration and LisaCA707 to beta for me and Bethaboo for her Portland beta help.**

**Sorry I didn't respond to your reviews! I've been back in school and just way too busy. I'm sick of being unemployed, so I decided to expand my usable work skills and it's eating up all my spare time.  
**

* * *

It started slowly; I woke up and there were several hairs on my pillow.  
I knew what it meant, but it wasn't anything I wanted to admit to just yet. Whenever Carlisle pulled my hair back while I was puking, he usually came away with a hand full or two of it into his hands. He tried to brush it off before I saw, but I did anyway.  
The number of hairs coming out got thicker and thicker, my brush got more matted every time I ran it through my hair. The amount of hair that I had to stick to the wall in the shower grew larger every day.  
On a day after chemo, I decided I'd had enough when I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and my sweaty hand came back with half the pony's contents and I could see my scalp through my hair.  
I felt a little sick, but I asked Brandi to watch the kids while I located a store and picked out a scarf—a pretty one. When I got home, Carlisle was there.  
"It's time," I said, holding up the scarf.  
He sighed. "I'm so sad," he said. "I love your hair."  
"It looks awful," I admitted. "It'll be one less thing to worry about while I'm sick at least."  
"I'm going to miss it. Are you sure you're ready?"  
"I've already cried over losing my hair." And I had; I'd had a private mourning session earlier that day.  
"You know I'm not going to let you do this alone."  
"I love you." It made such a difference having Carlisle's support. I remembered back to when I was first diagnosed and thought I'd be facing treatment alone. Having Carlisle by my side made all the difference.  
We carefully put tiny ponytail elastics around my hair so they were close to my scalp, holding small portions of my hair. No more denial. It was time. I really was sick and now I'd truly look the part.  
I took off my clothes and the kids watched in the doorway as I got into the bathtub and Carlisle cut the clippers out of the plastic. He put a sheet around my neck and knotted it closed.  
"All right," he said, sighing, "here goes."  
I felt a quick pang of nausea when he turned the clippers on and they buzzed. I took a deep breath… The chemo was killing all the cells that reproduced quickly, and I might as well get the transition over with.  
I felt the clippers buzz softly over my head and my tiny ponytails began to fall off like clouds. Carlisle was holding his breath. "It's all right," I said. "Keep going."  
He slowly went over my head and more ponytails fell to the bottom of the bathtub.  
"All right, we're all done," he said. I must have looked horrified because he turned me around and said "Hey, it'll grow back."  
I climbed out of the tub, taking off the sheet and looked at myself in the mirror. The jaundiced yellow skin went up and up. My ears stuck out. I didn't recognize myself—and I had a bumpy head, too— just like I had feared. I felt ugly very suddenly, like deformed. The knowledge I'd lose my hair didn't lessen the shock of actually having it happen.  
I felt tears rush my eyes, but I couldn't cry in front of the kids. I looked so different without it. I'd be fooling myself to not have shaved it off. It was all going to fall out anyway.  
"Come here," Carlisle said. He stroked my now bald head. "I told you you'd be beautiful bald."  
"You're lying," I mouthed.  
"No, I'm not," he said quietly. He leaned down and kissed me. He wiped my tears and I realized how stupid it was to cry right now. It was over. This was what I was now—a cancer patient. The battle was more real now than it had ever been.  
Carlisle took the scarf and helped me put it on to cover my head. I could get dressed now. "My turn," he said, taking off his shirt.  
"Are you sure?" I asked.  
"Totally sure. Let's do this."  
I put the sheet around his neck. "Here we go," I said. I ran the clippers from the front of his forehead to the middle of his scalp. His blond hair slid down the sheet to join mine on the bathtub floor.  
"Me next!" Emmett cried.  
"Me too!" Alice said.  
"I wanna go!" Edward said.  
"Wait a minute," Carlisle said. With each buzz and swipe, I felt strangely better. The kids were all about letting me know when I missed a spot. When Carlisle's head was done, he got out of the tub and I saw his blond locks laying on top of mine. Layered together. Inseparable. A bit of his hair was going to be sent to Locks of Love with mine, no matter how hard I tried to separate it.  
Why bother?  
I didn't know a reason not to.  
Carlisle got out of the tub and rubbed his head. "Okay, Mister Clean's on duty, who's next?" He grabbed Emmett, who was already in his Underoos. Carlisle came back with a hoop earring of mine and put it on his ear, looping it into his ear canal since he didn't have a piercing. My kids laughed and I had to smile. It was cute.  
Emmett volunteered first. He climbed into the bathtub and I shaved his black curls, he grinned and rubbed his head as he got out, just like his dad. Edward and Alice whined for their turns.  
Alice was bouncing up and down. "Me next!" she cried. "Me next, Mommy!"  
"No," I said. "Little girls shouldn't be bald."  
"You're a girl and you're bald," she said.  
"My hair's falling out, baby," I said. "Yours isn't. It's different. Come on, Edward, let's do yours."  
After we shaved Edward's wild auburn hair, I put the clippers away under the sink. I took the kids to the living room while Carlisle cleaned out the hair from the bathtub and we talked about why Mommy had to cut her hair off. My head felt oddly lighter and colder as we talked.  
"I'm sick with a special disease," I told my kids. "Not like when we get fevers or a cold. But if we stick together as a family, I'm not going to be sick for much longer."  
"I love you, Momma," Edward said, hugging me.  
"I love you, too. I love all of you so much."  
"I don't ever want to be apart from you ever again," Edward told me.  
I kissed and hugged him and my other two surrounded me.  
I quickly figured out that I was going to have to keep a scarf over my naked scalp from here on out just to keep warm. I heard somewhere that in winter, ninety percent of your body heat came out through your head unless you had a hat and covered it. I was going to have to be careful.  
"Why can't you cut my hair like yours, Momma?" Alice whined.  
"I already told you, sweetheart," I said. "Ballerinas need hair. To put up into a bun."  
"No I don't," Alice whined. "I can paint my head so it looks like I've hair!"  
Only Alice.  
"Here," Carlisle said, coming into the room with the tiny ponytails of my hair and he tucked them into a manilla envelope. Well, it would go to somebody who needed it more,now. Hopefully, I wouldn't be fighting this for years. Everyone said that hair grew back pretty quickly after chemo.  
"Or, I can wear a thing like yours when I dance!" Alice said, tugging at the ends of the scarf hanging down my back. "And it can be pink!"  
"Your hair is so much prettier," I said, kissing her head. "And I won't be bald for too long. It'll grow back. Hopefully soon. Ask God for me to get better."  
She kissed me. "I will."  
After we cuddled for a while, Carlisle announced we should all put on our shoes and coats. "We're going to the best-kept secret in Portland," he announced. "Get in the car."  
After we got into the car, he drove downtown. "Where are we going?" I asked.  
"Voodoo Doughnut."  
"Yay!" the kids cried.  
"We need some magic right now," he said. "If it helps you get better."  
We pulled into a parking lot on 3rd Avenue and went across the street to a little hole-in-the-wall shop. The sign said "Voodoo Doughnut; the magic is in the hole." When we walked in there were college students slurping coffee and eating odd-colored doughnuts. The walls were crammed full of colorful art and there were even panties for sale stapled to the wall. Tonight's special was scribbled on a chalkboard in bright pink; bacon maple bar. It sounded disgusting to me.  
"So, what are we having?" Carlisle asked the kids.  
"I want the one that's pink with the bubble gum in the middle!" Alice cried, pointing at the one in the clear case. There was a wrapped piece of Double Bubble in the doughnut hole, the doughnut covered in fine pink sprinkles.  
"I want the one with the Captain Crunch on it!" Edward announced.  
"I want the scary ghostie one," Emmett said.  
I looked at the menu and the names were all pretty risque. I was glad that even though the kids could read, they didn't know what cock-n-balls and maple blazer blunt meant or could mean. "What do you suggest?" I asked Carlisle.  
"The Maple Bacon Bar," Carlisle said. "It's just right. A mix of salty and sweet—just right."  
"Why don't you get that," I said. "I'll try a bite. I don't think I'm getting anything."  
"You gotta get something," Carlisle insisted. "This will make a night this shitty all better. These are magic. We need some magic tonight."  
"All right, fine. The Old Dirty Bastard."  
"Ooh, Mommy said 'bastard!'" Alice cried. She and the boys started giggling.  
"So one Captain my Captain, one Voodoo Doll, one Bacon Maple Bar, a Dubble Bubble, and a ODB. Anything else?" the cashier asked.  
"Just two decaf coffees and three skim milks," I said.  
"Special occasion?"  
"We just shaved my head," I said, indicating my headscarf. "Cancer."  
"Oh… well, in that case, they're on the house!"  
"Cool!" Emmett cried.  
"Thanks," Carlisle said.  
"Kids, can we all tell the nice lady thank you?"  
"Thank you!" they chorused.  
She put them all in a pink confection box and we sat down at a booth and gazed at all the art while the kids dug into their sugary treats. Carlisle was like a little kid moaning and groaning at each bite while I took a bite of mine. It was rich and tasty, but my nausea cancelled it out. I sighed and put it down. "Here," Carlisle said, offering a bite of his Maple-Bacon concoction. "Try it."  
I took a bite and understood why he was so crazy about it. At this point, I was so nauseated from the richness of the food, I was certain I was going to get diarrhea before we got home. The kids were already covered in chocolate and sprinkles somehow and they weren't even done with their doughnuts. I knew they were going to be hyped up for a few more hours. I figured it would be best if we let them burn out first, before going home.  
After we took the kids outside to run around and scream in the night air (disturbing all the people trying to enjoy the evening), they burned out and we got them into the car and went home. After a bath where we washed all three at once, I realized how much easier it was to wash the boys when I didn't have to mess with shampoo.  
I kissed them all good-night and read them a book. "And we're all going to go to bed, now," I said. "See you in the morning."  
We tucked Alice into her bed in her room and turned out the lights.  
I was officially exhausted- I had lost so much today in my attempt to survive. Carlisle told me to go to bed and he'd finish cleaning up. I dozed off and woke up to him getting into the bed beside me.  
He kissed me on the forehead.  
"Good night, Love."

* * *

I was woken up by the sound of little feet running through the room.  
"It's nothing," Carlisle muttered sleepily. "I think Edward's sleepwalking again."  
I rolled over in bed and tried to get to sleep. When he didn't wet the bed, he was usually sleepwalking into closets and taking a piss. I hated that. Hopefully, my shoes weren't going to be filled with pee in the morning.  
I felt Carlisle roll over in the bed. "What's going on?" I muttered.  
"Stay here. I'll check on them."  
Right as I closed my eyes again, I heard Carlisle yelp. "Emmett!" he yelled. I knew it was something bad. I hopped out of the bed and went to the kid's bathroom.  
The site that greeted me almost buckled my knees.  
"Alice!" I cried.  
They all three were standing in the bathroom with the clippers and Alice sitting in the bathtub in her underwear—a bald streak up her head. I burst into tears seeing my only daughter with her hair messed up so badly.  
"We told you Alice can't shave her head!" Carlisle cried. I saw his hand go up in the air and land on Edward's rear with a clap. He squealed and clutched his butt, surprised more than anything. "What have you done to your poor sister's head?" He smacked Emmett on the butt too, and then grabbed Alice, who screamed in the tiny room, the sound echoing off the walls, almost bursting my eardrums. All the kids were crying, more in tears of shock than anything. Carlisle never hit the children—ever.  
"My baby!" I sobbed. "Your hair!"  
"What made you do this?" Carlisle shouted.  
"Everybody was cutting their hair!" Alice sobbed. "But not meee!"  
"We told you no!" I cried.  
"Why am I so different?" Alice blubbered. "Why couldn't I?"  
It all made sense. Alice felt left out, being the only one not shaving her head. But my beautiful baby—her hair! Her beautiful black locks that I loved to braid and put into ponytails and to curl!  
"What were you thinking?" I sobbed.  
"I was going to take the hair and put it in my bed and tell you it fell out while I was sleeeppiiiing," she sobbed. "I'm sorry, Mommy! I just want to look like yoooouuuu!"  
"We might as well finish it off," Carlisle said. "We can't have her going around with a reverse mohawk."  
"But my baby!" I sobbed. "Her hair!"  
"It's messed up anyway," Carlisle said, shrugging, picking up the clippers. Alice's sobs stopped and she lit up. "We'll never be able to cover it up." Alice grinned and climbed back into the tub. Sighing, Carlisle shaved her head, while she got a shit-eating grin on her face.  
"She looks like a little boy," I sniffled.  
"I'll wear pink dresses," Alice offered.  
"We could always pierce her ears," Carlisle said. "Lots of moms do that when their daughters don't grow hair very quickly when they're babies."  
"Oh, no, I'm not taking her to the mall just to show off this haircut."  
"I like my haircut, Mommy," she said, rubbing her head.  
"Edward's pediatrician pierces ears," Carlisle said. "He numbs the earlobes so it doesn't hurt so much."  
"Well… we've got to do something," I said. "Alice, how do you feel about getting your ears pierced?"  
Alice grinned. "Yes! I want my ears pierced!"  
"Okay then, I'll make some phone calls and do it tomorrow," I said.  
"Kids, I'm sorry about spanking you," Carlisle said. "But when we tell you 'no', we mean 'no' for a reason and you disobeyed us. Let's make a new rule tonight. Only grown-ups are allowed to cut hair."  
"Good rule. Do we all agree?" I asked, dusting hair of Alice's shoulders.  
"Yes ma'am," my kids chorused.  
"Okay, good," Carlisle said, picking up Alice's hair from the bathtub. "Let's all go to bed now."  
We tucked the kids in bed and turned off the lights.  
"I'm the worst father in the world," Carlisle moaned, climbing into bed with me. "I can't believe I just spanked all three of them. I always said I'd never hit my kids."  
"Me either," I said. "But those little shits deserved it tonight, going behind our backs and deliberately disobeying us."  
"This is just the beginning," he muttered. "And I'm afraid Emmett will be bigger than me before I know it."  
"Hey now, no fat jokes about my son."  
"I wasn't making fat jokes! He's a tall kid!"  
I sighed. "He is."  
"We'll laugh about this someday. Good night."  
"Good night."

* * *

The next day, I took Alice to Dr. Mostel to get her ears pierced. "You're going to get to wear pretty earrings now," I said.  
"Yay!" Alice cried. I put a pink hat on her just in case anybody wondered. I put on my own headscarf. "Momma, I wanna wear a head thingy today."  
I put one on her, but ten minutes later, she had it off and was asking me to put it back on for her. This went on for a while before I decided Alice couldn't handle wearing a scarf and put the hat back on her and she pouted.  
At the doctor's office, people stared at us in horror and sympathy. "Both of you have cancer?" a lady asked me.  
"No, just me. My daughter just found my clippers and decided to give herself a haircut," I said.  
Her face softened. "How sweet!"  
"It's not that sweet when she does it behind your back."  
Alice just grinned.  
Finally they called us in. "I like this doctor!" Alice cried.  
She wasn't going to like him in a few minutes.  
We waited until the doctor came into the room. "Hi, I'm Dr. Mostel," he said. He saw Alice's shaved head and his expression fell. "What happened here?"  
"She saw her brothers, father and me shaving our heads," I said. "And she stole the clippers and had one of her brothers give her a haircut."  
"What kind of cancer do you have, Ms um…" he looked at the chart. "Evanson?"  
"Cervical," I said. "I thought we'd get her ears pierced so people would know she's a girl, despite her bald head."  
"All right," he said. He asked a few questions to make sure Alice didn't have any allergies or blood disorders. Then, he let Alice choose her studs. She chose some with pretty pink stones.  
The nurse came in and prepped her ears, putting a numbing gel on her earlobes and chilled them down before disinfecting them. Dr. Mostel got out a pair of disinfected needles and drew dots on her ears. "Is this even enough?" he asked.  
"Yes," I said.  
He picked up the needle and Alice's eyes got wide. "This shouldn't hurt," he said. "Just trust me, Alice." Alice began to scream before he even got the needle near her. "Alice, I haven't even touched the needle to you, yet." She whimpered. "You're not even going to feel this! I swear!"  
Alice sobbed loudly and he went ahead and pierced her left ear. "Momma! No! I'll never cut my hair again!"  
"Alice, I'm done," he said. "This ear is done."  
Alice's sobs stopped and looked at him, surprised. "It is?"  
"Yes, let me get the other one."  
She was quiet and compliant as he did her other ear. The earrings gleamed on her little ears. "You look very nice," I told Alice. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"  
She nodded and the nurse handed her a mirror. She smiled as she saw her earrings, wiping her eyes. She primped for a moment. "I like it, Momma."  
"I thought you would," I said. "Can you say thank you to Dr. Mostel?"  
"Thank you Dr. Mostel."  
Dr. Mostel gave me directions on how to care for Alice's ears and what to look out for. We'd have to leave them in for six weeks before changing them.  
"Momma, are you going to wear earrings?" Alice asked as we left the Dr.'s office.  
"That's a great idea," I said. "Let's go earring shopping!"


End file.
